
SC l: 












% -V * 

“ ^ , v ..« ^ 0 

* * **> 

* &Mfe- ,,. ■- ■* j- 

-- ” ' lj- ; - : * f\ , 

- *> o \° < 


t> ^ V 

<- y 0 * * * A \ 

'^f%a ,# , c 

U + '-?r A \ < x>A v UT| ^ 

H-- •*■ V ® « 'oo 

vfc x 0 o x . • 

’ io 5 v*,,,* 1 '' / \ „ , ^ " » rr^ > ' ^o- 

/ ,* r; ' v % v V^^' > - -• -* 

1 ^ ^ ^ C ^ ,V'\ XN % 

*' .<§>% '°wW0: 

\L V ' t> ' & y 

\0 <• y O , V * .A O, • 

A - ' ‘ 8 * c 0 N c -t "' Q. 

vTs^. ^ 


<P\ ' 


'-To, 0 °\-',Lr^% ^ ^ . 

W J : '*+- $ f 

CN <o 




^ ^ V 

* o 0 X 

* / -% * . ^ 

/ . °. t . 'm- 

V N t s . S > .0 N °f c> 

..• *V§^'. .#• .A* if -v 

r ;■ /w?m : % ^ ^ 

* *\ o. oT^T s' .o' 

-* 7 *> <r s *S V'fi/, 

O-. AV v* . 



O sfj 


° A 

> 2 / 






: <$? ^ 

* <V .£► 0 



,V cK ^ ^ MV 

*■ ,. ' oO, 


'V°;-.-.^-‘:/'..--.x ,<,- 

i ^ ^ ^ ; 

: ,o © 






* <* 


«5 ^ 

% S77^V\..>. 

0 s C* V v S w-,J> 




lVW‘ - 


. - W , / ,; AW 

\\ i\ M f* r /> ^ a- * ^ *s 

•A s°l?', °c cT' * 




<A * y o* ^ A 

l ' ^ \ ' ^ 






oo' , 

* 4 *r > * 

-v N v -* 

* / .> % 
*' -V -- 


i? <1 


4 % * * 

* £ ^ * A 

<a '■>“*/ \.». 


? ^4-, a v 

*»» - *% V = J 

B?^ = >o o,. , ^ 

* ^ 



^ ^ 4 VJ 
#' •%, '» oTo ^ ^ 

' s"r,'> O v s *' * 0 r V A’ . 



* 8 I 1 * \V s * * f <*> * 3 N 0 



« a 
.(V 



^ ^ 2 *? //V - 

* &%S\% 











»• 







PUT TO THE TEST 


A NO V*k L 


BY 

/ 

CHARLES CHAMBERLAIN JR. 


All thy vexations 

Were but my trials of thy love, and thou 
Hast strangely stood the test. — Prospero. 



NEW YORK 

HENRY L. HINTON PUBLISHER 744 BROADWAY 

1874 




,o^ l ° 


Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by 
HENRY L. HINTON, 


in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 


CONTENTS 


0 

CHAPTER I. 

A SUNSET SCENE, . 

CHAPTER IL 

AN OUTLINE OF A CHARACTER, 

CHAPTER HI. 

A BIT OF FAMILY HISTORY, . 

CHAPTER IV. 

THE IDIOT AND HIS MASTER, . 

CHAPTER Y. 

THE LOVERS’ SECRET, 

CHAPTER VI. 

ALMOST A COMPACT, 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VII. 

A SUIT OF HEARTS, . . . 0 .76 

CHAPTER VIII. 

A WHITE RIBBON, AND A CONSCRIPT, . . 83 

CHAPTER IX. 

THE SLIMY TRAIL OF A SERPENT, . . .99 

CHAPTER X. 

A COUNCIL OF EXPEDIENCY, . . . .109 

CHAPTER XL 

FOILED, 118 

CHAPTER XII. 

PRIVATE PIERRE NIEGE, . . . .129 

CHAPTER XHL 

ON THE ROAD TO DANTZIC, . . . .139 

CHAPTER XIV. 

A FAMILY JAR, 153 

CHAPTER XV. 

THE VIVANDIERE, 165 


CONTENTS, 


IX 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A BIVOUAC QUARREL, 

CHAPTER XVIL 

A SINGLE RAY OF SUNSHINE, 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

A RUSSIAN PRISONER, 


• • 


CHAPTER XIX. 


A DISCOVERY, 


• • 


CHAPTER XX. 

ALMOST A RIVAL, ..... 

CHAPTER XXL 

THE WORK OF A PRUSSIAN SPY, . 

CHAPTER XXIL 


THE STORY OF A NECKLACE, 


• • 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE IDIOT’S MISSION, .... 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE REMNANT OF A SECRET, 


. 176 

. 187 

. 197 

. 205 

. 216 

. 223 

. 236 

. 244 

. 255 


X 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER XXV. 

A TRIP OF EXPLORATION, 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

WHAT A MESSAGE MEANT, 

CHAPTER XXVH. 

DUPREz’s UNCERTAIN VISITOR, 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE RENEGADE’S PRISONER, 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

WHAT A SPY DISCOVERED, 

CHAPTER XXX. 

AN ESCAPE NOT COUNTED UPON, . 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

AN INTERRUPTED STORY, 

CHAPTER XXXIL 

A DEATHBED SECRET, . . 

CHAPTER XXXIIL 

THE RETURN TO ALSACE, 


. 262 

. 274 

. 281 

. 286 

. 296 

. 305 

. 313 

. 320 


327 


CONTENTS. 


XI 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A COUNCIL OF THREE, . 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

SOME INFORMATION FOR DUPREZ, 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE, . 

CHAPTER XXXVH. 

THE IDIOTS WORK COMPLETED, 


. 332 


. 340 


. 346 


. 353 
































V 












' ,1 . 


























* 


























































































* 



















































» ft ra 








/ 








•** •« 






































■ 


































































. 





































* • 







































% 


, 










' I /iV. 

. / • • ? 

* \ 









. . . ■ - . . ' 




PUT TO THE TEST. 


o 

CHAPTER L 

A SUNSET SCENE. 

A pretty Alsatian peasant was tapping upon the 
pane of a half open window. She was trying to 
attract the attention of a woman who was lazily 
resting in an old-fashioned, high-hacked rocking- 
chair. Neglected knitting had partly fallen from 
her lap, and the ball of yarn had quietly rolled 
away and stopped full half way across the floor. 

Failing to arouse the sleepy dame, the girl ceased 
her tapping upon the diamond-shaped panes, and 
throwing open the sash, caught the woman’s face 
in her hands, and kissed her. 

The widow aroused herself, rubbed her eyes, 
while her face was still held in the girl’s embrace 
as she leaned through the window. It was a pretty 


14 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


picture in the warm glow of an early Autumn 
sunset. 

“Nodding, mother, as I live, and the sun not 
yet gone down behind the mountain ! ” exclaimed 
the girl, releasing the woman’s face, and standing 
beside the window-sill, turning her cheek to the 
sunset ; “ am I so late, that you have grown tired 
waiting for me ? ” 

“No, child; but all the girls came down from 
the mountains an hour ago. Come in.” 

Without an answer, the girl closed the window, 
and then stood for a moment leaning on the lower 
half of the cottage door, watching the sun go down 
and the wood-cutters toiling up the hill, each with 
his bundle of faggots across his shoulder with a 
heavy woodman’s axe passed through them as a 
handle. 

The short silence was broken by the widow, who 
closed the window, stooped to pick up the ball of 
yarn, and then joined her daughter at the door- 
way. 

“ Have you seen Pierre, Marie ? He is late this 
evening, and he went away almost at daybreak.” 

The girl started as the woman spoke to her, and 
stood in silence, looking down the steep and stony 
-path leading towards the mountain. 

“ He may have had ill-luck — the chamois, he 
says, have been wild lately, and that may have 
detained him.” 

“ Then the sooner he should find his way home 


A SUNSET SCENE. 


15 


again, Marie. Come in ; the air is chilly, and you 
must be tired after your walk. I was half asleep, 
I do believe, and almost dreaming.” 

“ You are always ‘ almost dreaming,’ mother, 
when the sun goes down. Your dream to-day has 
been a pleasant one, I hope.” 

“ It was of you, my child — and Pierre. I hope 
nothing has happened to him.” 

The girl trembled for a second only, and still 
continued to look anxiously towards the mountain 
where the shades of brown and green, alternate 
rock and verdure, were fast changing color from 
the fading sunlight, and where the shadows were 
deepening as the daylight passed away. 

“ I was dreaming,” she continued, quite heedless 
of the girl’s abstracted air, “ of the night when I 
found Pierre ; and I saw the storm, and the flood, 
and the broken trees rushing down the stream, just 
as plainly as though it were but yesterday. But 
he will soon be back, my child, and then he will 
have some tale to tell us of a hard chase after a 
chamois, and he will be tired and hungry.” 

“Then he shall have a supper ready, mother, 
and I will get it for him.” 

Marie closed the door and began her prepara- 
tions for their supper, working in the twilight, and 
humming the refrain of a mountain song as she 
fanned the fire into a blaze and stood in its ruddy 
light before the wide, tiled fireplace. 

It was an unpretending cottage, and an unpre- 


16 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


tending room, quite comfortable for tlieir own 
immediate wants or shelter, and Julie Lascour was 
proud of her lithe and joyous daughter. 

They were simple peasants of the Canton Alsace, 
and lived as all the peasants did throughout the 
wildly beautiful regions of Northern France, where 
the Rhine formed the boundary on the eastern 
limits, and the peaks of the Yosges served as a 
hiding place for the setting sun upon the western 
borders. 

Their cottage lay, as if by accident, snugly 
nestled down in a patch of green sward, and the 
low, pointed roof marked it as one of the prevail- 
ing style in the times of the Bonaparte ascendancy 
in 1806-7, before the sun of the great man’s glory 
had verged to its decline. 

“ I have heard you tell of that storm so often, 
mother,” said the girl, as she spread the table- 
cloth and set the dishes for their meal, “ that I can 
almost see it myself, with poor little Pierre 
lying by the roadside ready to be picked up and 
brought home and nursed by you.” 

“ 1 sometimes wish that I could forget it, Marie,” 
sighed the widow, “but God gave him to me just 
where I found him, lying at the foot of the Travel- 
ers’ Cross in the Southern Pass. All that he had 
about him was a little crimson cloak, with a great 
large letter “P” worked in silk upon the corner, 
and a fine gold chain about his neck. I found him 
in the snow ; that letter must have stood for Pierre, 


A SUNSET SCENE. 17 

and so I called him Pierre Niege, and that is all I 
know about him.” 

“ Not all , mother! You know that he is brave, 
and good, and generous, that he loves you as his 
dear good mother, and he loves me — ” 

“ With a little more than a brother’s love, my 
child. But tell me, Marie, what news is stirring 
at the inn — what of Napoleon and the war ? ” 

“Why always of the war, mother? That is a 
long way off from us. Nobody seemed to know 
anything about it except Jean Duprez. He talked 
of Austerlitz and heavy losses.” 

“ And what does Jean Duprez know of this war 
more than other people? Did he speak with 
you ? ” 

“ Only a few words, mother. He was at the inn 
with Gaspard and others, and he walked part of 
the way with me. He says they will be coming 
here for conscripts, and asked me what had become 
of Pierre. I wonder why he seemed so anxious 
— do you know ? ” 

“Yes, my child, I do, and you should know 
it, too. That man, Duprez, loves you and he knows 
that you love Pierre. A conscription in Alsace 
and Pierre sent off into the army, would please him 
only too well.” 

“But Pierre cannot go; and if Jean Duprez 
asks me again about him, I will tell him so. I hate 
that man, mother, and I sometimes think there 


18 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


must be some awful crime banging over him with 
its shadow ! ” 

She shuddered as she spoke, and dropping her 
work, stood scanning the pathway with an earnest 
gaze. Then turning suddenly towards her mother, 
she placed her arms about her, and sobbed bitterly 
in her girlish sorrow. 

“He cannot go, mother! He shall not go, 1 
say ! He is all the world to me, and you love him 
so — ” 

She turned pleadingly to the widow as she spoke, 
as if to seek some consolation from her grief. 

“ The grand army cares nothing for a woman’s 
love, Marie, when the call is made for soldiers. 
But time enough for that, my daughter, when the 
trouble comes. See, there is some one coming 
down the mountain now, and it must be Pierre. 
There, dry your tears, and go to meet him, 
child, and tell him we are waiting supper for him.” 

There was a tone of deep and earnest sadness as 
the widow spoke, and it seemed that Marie knew 
its meaning. She struggled a moment with her- 
self, and then brushing away the tell-tale tears, she 
went out into the warm glowing light of the sun- 
set, and walked briskly towards the mountain to 
meet the man who seemed so dear to her. 

The widow watched her as she sped away, and 
then, tired, it seemed, of her weary watching, sank 
into her chair, her eyes listlessly following Marie’s 
retreating form as she toiled up the pathway. 


A SUNSET SCENE. 


19 


“Ah, well,” she murmured, “they love each other, 
and I suppose that it is right. And yet, I wonder 
who Pierre is ? ” 

She could find no answer to her query. He was 
a snow-drift foundling. Twenty years before, when 
Jacque Lascour was living, they had been at the 
bedside of a dying neighbor and were hurrying 
homeward, when they found the child, lying close 
upon the edge of the narrow mountain road. The 
wild fury of the storm was just gathering, and 
the hand that placed the boy upon the roadside, 
had counted upon the rushing of the water to carry 
him down into the valley, and hide forever either 
the evidence of some fair, trusting woman’s shame, 
or to remove the obstacle to some one’s pride or 
heritage. 

And so Jacque Lascour took him in his sturdy 
arms and kept him from the storm, and by the dim 
light of their cottage lamp, scanned the features 
of the foundling. 

He was a pretty, helpless baby — nothing more. 
Ho trinket, excepting a thin chain of fine gold about 
his neck, no parchment gave him a title to their 
sympathy — nothing but the letter, worked upon 
the cloak in which he had been wrapped, and he 
was almost frozen with the dampness and the 
cold. 

And so they nurtured him and cared for him — a 
kindly neighbor aided in his care, and when at last 
the young wife found her own child, Marie, given 


20 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


to her, the boy had grown to be a prattling, tod- 
dling little one, and she loved the children, giving 
them both a shelter and a home. f 

A few years later — only a short space of years it 
seemed — and the dark shadow of death crossed 
her cottage threshold. Poor Jacque Lascour was 
brought home to her one day, all cut and mangled 
by the falling trees, and scarcely lived to give her 
one fond kiss, or look up into her tearful eyes, as 
he faded away and left the world, it seemed, alone 
to her. 

Scanty was, at best, the store of the world’s 
goods which Jacque Lascour bequeathed her. A 
purse of silver only, and their little cottage not free 
from mortgage liens, and the boy and girl to 
struggle and to live for. All the assistance which 
her kindly neighbors could afford was given her ; 
but her cares increased, and at last at the solicita- 
tion of her friends, and under the persuasion of the 
good friars of the convent, Pierre was given to 
them and educated at the convent chapel. A 
few years previous to the opening of our story, he 
had been sent back to her, to find Marie a hand- 
some, winsome peasant girl, the sunshine of the 
widow’s house, the belle of the village when the 
merrymakings were in vogue, and queen of all their 
festivals. 

It was not strange, then, that he grew to love 
his foster-sister. And the girl learned to love him, 
until the history of his being found by the way- 


A SUNSET SCENE. 


21 


side had caused whispers in the Canton, and the 
neighbors spoke to Julie of her daughter’s love for 
the foundling. And then, in her guileless woman’s 
heart she only loved him more, and pledged her- 
self to be his wife, when the good friars would 
give them both a blessing and consent. 


22 


PUT TO TI1E TEST. 


CHAPTER n. 

AN OUTLINE OF A CHARACTER. 

Jean Duprez, whose quick words and ventured 
opinions of Napoleon and the war, had caused the 
busy talkers at the inn to wag their tongues and 
rack their brains that day, was one of the noted 
characters of the Canton Alsace. He was one of 
the main springs of the little mountain village, 
claiming his ascendancy from being called the 
richest man in the neighborhood, and from having 
once been the steward to the Marquis De Brieiyies, 
a feudal magnate, long since dead. 

Master Jean Duprez had grown to be a man of 
power. However doubtful his record as a steward 
may have been, the whispers in the Canton which 
concerned the administration of his late office, were 
often conveniently smothered by his presence, and 
were, in default of his personal attentions, often 
silenced by fear of his hard-dealing enmity. 

Years before, when its owner counted nearly all 


AN OUTLINE OF A CHARACTER. 23 

the laboring and vintage people as his tenants, 
Jean Duprez had full control over the affairs of 
the castle. A lazy lord at best, the old marquis 
had trusted all to him, and to his discretion or his 
will. 

J ulie Lascour — then J ulie Marchaud — was hand- 
maid to the only daughter of the marquis ; and so 
it came that Duprez and the widow were old 
friends. 

Rumor had currently reported even more than 
ancient friendship between them. They were sus- 
pected of even more than casual regard ; and one 
of the female servants had once whispered that the 
steward had made love to the pretty waiting-maid 
and had been refused. 

Still the pretty Julie kept her place, and was 
the almost constant attendant of the daughter — a 
fair young creature who had been a poor sickly 
girl, and did not live to see her eighteenth year ; 
then the marquis took to himself a second wife, 
whom he had wooed and won somewhere among 
the mountains of Spain. He brought her home to 
live at the castle a few months after the death of 
his only child. 

The Spanish woman who had come to live in 
Alsace, was a dark-eyed, high-tempered beauty, 
differing widely in years from the marquis. She 
had claimed the privilege of bringing with her 
from her Spanish birth-place, all the mannerisms 
of her country, and ruled it over the castle with 


24 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


a high hand, perhaps as an equivalent for having 
given herself to the owner. 

Whether the kindred spirits of the new corps of 
servants suited the temper of the ex-steward or 
not, it became a matter, of comment that the only 
women who could abide in comfort at the castle, 
were the half-breed servants of the new marquise. 
Julie Marchaud soon left, and found her home 
farther down in the Canton, receiving occasional 
visits from Jean Duprez. Then, for a time, the 
visits of the steward ceased altogether, and Julie 
Marchaud became lost to the acquaintance of those 
at the castle, excepting Gaspard Jarome, one of 
the attendants, a chum of Jean Duprez, but a man 
much better liked by the people of the Canton. 

As time wore on there were days of merrymaking 
at the old grey pile. J ean Duprez made frequent 
visits to the village inn, and there was news of a 
christening to take place in the grand hall. All 
the village people were assembled to see the twin 
boys lately born to the marquise. The turrets of 
the grim old towers were lit with bonfires, and 
church service was said in the chapel at the con- 
vent for the mother and the new heirs to the De 
Briennes estates ; prayers for their safety and for 
the long life of the marquis and his pretty Spanish 
wife. And so, while things were drifting lazily 
along with the good people of the Canton, the new 
marquise was seldom seen, except in her traveling 
carriage, and Julie Marchaud, having lost her 


AN OUTLINE OF A CHARACTER. 


25 


identity as one of the attendants at the castle, set- 
tled quietly down among the peasant women, and 
busied herself with her own affairs, while the visits 
of Duprez became too infrequent to be a theme of 
comment to her neighbors, or an annoyance to 
herself. 

Then Jacque Lascour, a promising young wood- 
cutter, blithe, handsome, and generous, became 
her suitor. Soon after, there was a peasant wed- 
ding, a peasant greeting of flowers, and a bridal 
wreath was sent up to the castle. The new marquise 
sent the intended bride a pretty little present, and 
Julie Marchaud became the wife of Jacque Lascour. 

For a time there was nothing new to be talked 
of, till there were lights seen at night in the rooms 
of the eastern wing of the castle De Briennes. 
Swift-mounted couriers were sent abroad, and 
stealthy visits to the distant city were made by 
Jean Duprez, and sometimes by Gaspard Jarom . 

But the messengers went away in silence, and 
returned in silence, till finally, it became known 
that the marquis was very ill, and that the persons 
sent for were some of the dark-browed Spanish 
family of the new marquise. 

At last the chapel walls were hung with mourn- 
ing, and there were preparations for a funeral. 
The day of the burial was made almost a holiday 
in the Canton, and one by one the villagers 
trudged up the narrow road. They we;e admitted 
inside the castle walls, where, in the ancient ban- 


26 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


quet-hall, there were prayers said for the repose of 
the old man’s troubled soul, and the weeping widow 
followed her liege lord to his lonely grave. 

Duprez, then, was sole master of the estate. In 
a few days the relatives of the Spanish lady went 
away as stealthily as they came, for it soon became 
known that the estate was much encumbered, and 
that a fear of confiscation for some old alleged 
political offence, cut short their generous expecta- 
tions; and so the steward ruled it with a high 
hand, and did as he pleased with land and tenant, 
with only the marquise to check him in his ex- 
penditures. As for the lady, she was scarcely 
familiar enough with the workings of the estate 
and castle to inquire into the management. 

With no easy hand Duprez wandered among 
the tenants, each day adding new tithes and taxes 
to their rentals, and each month adding to the 
hatred which they felt for him. The marquise 
was seldom seen abroad, and there were frequent 
whispers among the tenantry that matters were 
not progressing as they should be, within the 
limits of the castle or without. Duprez was, as 
usual, sullen and exacting. Gaspard Jarome 
seemed in thorough fear of him, and when ques- 
tioned, carefully avoided all successful inquiry by 
flimsy prevarication. Even the more curious of 
the people in the village looked up at the towers 
of the old castle, as though each had secrets of its 
own, and caught at rumors as they came from the 


AN OUTLINE OF A CHARACTER. 27 

lips of some of the incautious under-servants, with 
avidity and doubt. 

Among this latter class of retainers there were 
some captious ones who did not fear to tell the 
truth. Their miserable stipend of wages had been 
from time to time reduced, and then again cut 
down. Duprez, on being pressed for settlement, 
told them in his sullen way, that the estates were 
mortgaged and in debt ; and so the servants left 
the marquise, and she was seldom seen beyond 
the castle walls. 

Then scarcely a month after, there were rumors 
of her sickness, and Gaspard was heard to say that 
Madame la marquise was very ill, that her physi- 
cians had forbidden her staying at the castle, that 
she was going back to Spain, and intended to take 
her children with her. 

It was a matter of no surprise, then, when Duprez 
was making his preparations for the departure. 
When the snows were beginning to fall, he 
came down to the inn and told the women that 
they must prepare to bid farewell to Madame la 
marquise and the twin boys ; and all the servants 
excepting old Lisette, the housekeeper, and Gaspard 
Jarome were discharged and sent away. 

Early one morning, before people were fully 
awake, there was a rumbling of wheels upon 
the stony road, and a heavy traveling-carriage, 
with outriders by the windows, came down from 
out the castle gates. The grim face of the steward 


28 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


was seen at the carriage window, and a dark-eyed 
lady, wrapped in a heavy traveling shawl, put her 
pale cheeks close to the glass as they hurried by, 
and passed away from Alsace. 

It was a matter of comment only for a few days, 
a month, perhaps, and then even curiosity grew 
threadbare, and people merely wondered when, if 
ever, Duprez was coming back. 

Gaspard and Lisette knew nothing — at least, 
they said so ; except that the marquise was ill, and 
that they feared that neither she nor the children 
would survive the journey. It was a cold and 
stormy season, and they were but poorly provided 
for their route. But the young widow had insisted 
on taking the journey, and so it would be her own 
folly, and not their fault, or Jean Duprez’s, if harm 
should befall her. 

At last the steward showed his face to them 
again. At the close of the day, in the early Spring 
time, he came slowly up the narrow road, mounted 
on a jaded horse. He was tired, he said, after 
a long journey, and sent for Gaspard Jarome to 
meet him at the auberge at the foot of the mountain. 

Both Gaspard and the steward seemed gloomy . 
and foreboding after their long interview. They 
were closeted in one of the upper rooms for the 
better part of the night, and a notary from the 
adjoining Canton was sent for by a courier. He 
came, and went away again, carrying with him a 
bundle of heavily sealed papers, given him by 


AX OUTLINE OF A CHARACTER. 29 

Gaspard, and securely fastened in a poach behind 
his saddle. 

And then the story of the twin boys’ death was 
told ; and how the young and feeble mother, 
unable to endure the grief of their demise, had 
found an early grave in a small town just over the 
Spanish border, and had sent her faithful steward 
home to discharge the debts of the estate, with 
what there should remain to pay them with. 

Papers of great value to the empire had been 
found among the records and parchments hidden 
away in the strong, iron-bound boxes of the old 
marquis, and the estates were, for some political 
offences of long standing, confiscated and ordered 
to be sold. 

Before the sale, however, and while Duprez was 
away pleading with the officers of the state to re- 
lease their hold upon the castle, and while old 
Lisette and Gaspard were keeping vigil at its 
gates, a fire occurred, and all of the northen wing 
and turrets were destroyed. 

There was but little left to purchase, so Duprez 
contrived to arrange a settlement, and took the 
ruins in his own hands, living in them for a time, 
and finally, with Gaspard Jarorne as comrade, and 
old Lisette as housewife, he had left the crumbling 
pile and established himself in a cottage down 
among the people in the valley. 

A few words concerning this cottage and its 
occupants will be essential, as a necessary link in 


30 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


the chain, explanatory of Jean Duprez’s relations 
toward Gaspard Jarome. 

Master and servant they were, and yet sometimes 
companions. They lived pent up within the nar- 
row circle of their own home. If they fought and 
quarreled no one cared, and Lisette was doubtless 
used to their eternal growling at each other. 

Besides themselves, there was one other occu- 
pant of the cottage. Franz, an idiot boy, a pro- 
tege of Jean Duprez, to whom he had given a 
home and took good care to give but little else. 
The story of the lad’s life was a mystery. He had 
wandered into the castle a few years before, with 
a band of gypsies, so the villagers had been told, 
and Duprez had given him a shelter. 

If there was any secret connected with his his- 
tory, no one knew of it, for Gaspard as a general 
thing, and Lisette, when any one dared to question 
her, were commendably reticent. 

Once, and once only, Lisette had mentioned that 
before the fire at the castle, the lad had lived with 
them, but who his parents were, she either would 
not, or could not divulge. He had run away, they 
said, and they were glad to escape the infliction of 
his presence till he came back again with the wan- 
derers, and then Duprez had given him a home, 
either from caprice or possible necessity. 

Whatever mysteries there may have been at the 
old castle, they were either obliterated by the fire, or 
hidden away in the forbidden precincts of Duprez’s 


AN OUTLINE OF A CHARACTER. 31 

house, and they were thoroughly safe in the keep- 
ing of Gaspard,. Duprez, and their sombre and 
snarling old companion, who wandered about at a 
respectful distance and was cheerfully allowed to 
maintain her reserve intact. 

The homely stone-foundationed house in which 
they lived was scarcely more inviting within than 
its outside appearance would suggest. Jean 
Duprez, however, well as he may have lived at the 
castle, where tne purse of its careless and confid- 
ing owner paid the reckoning, was by no means 
lordly in his hospitality at home. 

They lived frugally and carefully. Duprez at 
best was a man of uncertain nature and peculiar 
habits ; and had, moreover, imbued those living 
with him with the same odd fancies. 

Lisette was a fitting helpmate to the worthy 
twain. She seemed to have some affection for the 
idiot boy, only. Gaspard was scarcely a shade 
better than Duprez, watching and waiting for 
the ex-steward’s return from his daily walk or 
business, for he seldom rode, and had a habit of 
coming home just when it pleased his fancy or 
suited his convenience to do so. 

He expected a welcome also, from his other 
lodgers, and while they lived in such seclusion, 
Duprez was a lord of wide means but small domain 
it seemed, and had less than a guard of honor for 
his tenantry, to whom his social relations were 
rather more of a problem than a certainty. 


32 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER III. 

A BIT OF FAMILY HISTORY. 

At the cottage door of Master Jean Duprez, just 
as the sun went down, there was an ill-natured 
couple ; Gaspard and Lisette were ugly towards 
each other, perhaps because they dared not be 
ugly towards Duprez. 

“Jean is late to-day,” the woman said, as she 
crouched with her shoulders bent low and her head 
resting on her hands. “ Have you seen him yet, 
or do you know where he has gone ? ” 

Her inquiry was a mild but decisive one, and, 
being addressed in quick tones to Gaspard, he 
turned lazily, as he sat smoking in the doorway, 
and curled the smoke up at her, leaning back 
familiarly towards the chair in which she happened 
to be sitting. 

“ No — but I am getting hungry.” 

“And not the first time either, Gaspard, that we 
have both been hungry. I wish that we were 
clear of Duprez and his house together.” 

Then why not rid yourself of the burden ? It’s 


A BIT OF FAMILY HISTORY. 


33 


a very easy thing for you to do,” suggested Gas- 
pard in a mocking tone, as if insinuating that 
there was some hidden relationship with Duprez, 
which the woman would gladly sever if she dared 
to do so. 

“ And have you tattle on me, I suppose,” she 
growled in answer. “You love him no better than 
I do, my man, but you have not the courage to 
show your hate.” 

Lisette was not wide of the truth. Why she 
remained so constant to Duprez, was a secret from 
Gaspard; and why Gaspard seemed almost in- 
separable from the ex-steward was a secret from 
Lisette. All that she cared to acknowledge, was 
that she submitted to growlings and grumblings 
from them both, and moved about the house in a 
shadow of uncertainty as to her life and actions. 

The taunt she gave him kept him quiet for a few 
moments, and then, with a hasty leer at her, he 
quietly remarked : 

“ Why, marry him, Lisette — you’re old enough, 
and then adopt that half-witted lad for a step-son, 
and make him the heir to all your large estates. 
He’d be an ornament to your household, and a 
match for some gypsy girl who fancied such a 
fellow for a husband.” 

There was a biting, keen-edged sarcasm in the 
words, and the woman glared at him like a tigress. 

“ I adopt no children whose parentage is doubt- 
ful,” she replied. “You may well say marry him, 


34 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


Gaspard. It would have been a good thing had 
he married me before he linked his future with 
yours. I know too much of either of you to be 
turned adrift ; and too much for my own safety, if 
I went away. That fire at the castle was well 
contrived.” 

“ Was it ? Well, who helped us in the scheme, 
I wonder ? ” 

“ I did, fool that I was, and that because I fan- 
cied that I loved Duprez. Do you remember it ? ” 

“ Things like that are not soon forgotten. It 
was a bold piece of work that, and served its pur- 
pose well.” 

“ Bold enough for Duprez, indeed ! And yet, 
he walks about the Canton as unconsciously as 
though he had no hand in the rascality.” 

Lisette spoke clearly and distinctly in her whin- 
ing voice, and Gaspard walked lazily to and fro, 
watching her preparations for the supper, and cast- 
ing occasional anxious looks down the roadway, as 
if waiting and watching for Duprez with more than 
ordinary anxiety. Then he paused in his walking, 
and stopped suddenly, placing his hand upon the 
woman’s shoulder so heavily as to cause her to 
start and brush his hand away. 

“ Lisette — ” he spoke quickly, and the woman 
looked up at him inquiringly. 

“ Gaspard — ” this time she stood erect and gazed 
full in his face — “ what are you thinking about ? 
What new mischief are you hatching now ? ” 


A BIT OF FAMILY HISTORY. 


35 


“Well said, Lisette. Your compliments are 
generous, to-day.” 

“You are always serious when you have work 
to do, and you were in close conversation with 
Duprez last night.” 

“ While you were snoring loudly enough, to wake 
the dead ! * 

His gaze was an inquiring one, and he waited for 
an answer to his remark with an earnestness which 
betrayed too much anxiety for safety in his plans. 
The fox was too keen in his scent. 

In a moment Lisette saw it, and she again 
stooped over the fire with the spoon in her hand, 
and began stirring the soup which was in waiting 
for Duprez’s supper, while Gaspard resumed his 
walk towards the door. 

“ Lisette — ” he began again ; and this time he 
shook the ashes from his pipe, and, refilling it, 
stooped down to the fire to light it, looking up 
with a steady gaze into her face. “ Lisette — are 
you true to us — are your secrets all untold to any 
one ? ” 

The question was ill-timed ; for the woman, who 
at best was rarely good-natured towards him, 
turned sharply from her work and replied : 

“ So far , they are safe. I am too much com- 
mitted to your schemes to turn traitor to yon uow. 
Last night you were at work, you two, and I was 
not asleep.” 


36 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ Then you overheard our talk, and gained some 
information ? ” 

“ Quite enough, Gaspard J arome, to make me 
valuable to you and to Jean Duprez. You are 
not altogether safe, it seems ? ” 

“ Safe, Lisette ? From what ? ” 

“ Discovery of the murder of the heirs to the 
Castle De Briennes. No one but Lisette, you 
think, knows that Madame la marquise went alone 
to Spain ? ” 

She was prepared for her companion as she 
spoke ; and as she announced to him the conversa- 
tion which she had overheard, she stood erect 
before the fire, almost expecting some attack ; for 
Gaspard had carelessly moved towards the table, 
his fingers working nervously as he stretched his 
hand out towards the knife which lay close to the 
edge. 

His eyes were bent upon her,' and in the uncer- 
tain glimmer of the fire-light, she could see the 
cool determination which lurked within them. 

In a moment she had thrown the spoon aside 
and darted towards the table. The movement 
was so sudden that Gaspard was totally unpre- 
pared for it. 

She placed herself between him and the knife, 
and with a quick clasp at the long bright blade, 
she snatched it from the table and hurled it through 
the open doorway. 

“Not yet, my man! not yet! I know you too 


A BIT OF FAMILY HISTORY. 


37 


well; — I know your secret, too, but i’ll keep it 
till—” 

The words gurgled hoarsely from her throat, for 
the firm grip of Gaspard’s hard hand was upon her, 
and he bore her to the floor and forced her down 
upon her knees. 

44 Another word, and you will tell no tales on 
me, or on Duprez! You know too much to live in 
safety ! ” 

Lisette, though pressed down to the floor, was 
quick and strong in her movements. "With both 
hands she grasped his arm and bore her weight 
upon it. Then, as for a moment his hold relaxed, 
she broke away from him and sprang beyond him, 
through the doorway, into the road, picking up 
the knife which she had thrown away. 

Every feature of her wrinkled face was hard and 
callous to all fear of the man before her, and she 
came back to the threshold of the house with the 
knife in hand, ready for any new movement that 
he might make. 

44 A coward like you would kill a woman as 
readily as make way with two sickly boys! A 
word now, Gaspard Jarome, and I mean it ! ” 

44 Well — be quick about it. What do you mean 
to do ? ” He stood at bay a moment, and Lisette 
on guard. 

“Nothing — till it suits my purpose. I know the 
secret of the children’s death, and I will keep it — 
at least, it shall not harm you. You have never 


38 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


done me harm, and there is no reason why I 
should injure you — that I will agree not to do.” 

“ And Duprez ? — ” 

“When the time comes, I say again, I have an 
account to settle with him. The fire at the castle 
buried some traces of his crime, but not all of them. 
I know more of it than you do, and I will make a 
compact with you.” 

“ And would you keep it ? What are the secrets 
which you guard? You do not know — ” 

He advanced towards her as he spoke, but she 
stood firmly in the doorway, brandishing the knife 
before her breast. 

“Keep my secrets? Yes; better than you 
would keep your faith with me, Gaspard Jarome! 
Stop where you are, and hear me out. When the 
old turret fell, you thought that it buried one of 
the boys beneath the ruins ; Duprez thought so, too, 
but it did not. The boy whom he thought starved 
and dying was not there. The other one you dis- 
posed of, and the crime is on your hands.” 

“ Then by the mass you shall not live to tell it ! ” 

He started forward and attempted to wrest the 
knife from her, but she struck him full in the face 
with the heavy handle, and clasping his hands* 
suddenly over his forehead, he retreated into the 
room, the blood oozing through his fingers ; then 
reeling for a moment, he fell heavily backward 
upon the table and from thence to the floor. 


A BIT OF FAMILY HIST0EY 39 

With the fierce fury of a desperate woman, 
Lisette followed him ; and as he lay, stunned and 
bleeding, she placed her knee upon his breast and 
held him down with all her strength. 

“ I’ll keep your secrets if you will keep mine, 
Gaspard Jarome,” she muttered. “I am no weak 
and puny woman, and you have seen my strength 
before. One word, and quick, for Duprez will be 
here soon, and then — ” 

“ It is a bargain — I’ll keep my faith with you.” 

The look which passed between the fallen man 
and the now thoroughly aroused Lisette, was one 
of quick and sudden, almost deadly meaning. 
They were partners in a common crime, and Gas- 
pard knew that for the present, he must not quar- 
rel with her. 

She released her hold upon him, and he flung her 
off, standing erect before her, while she stood 
ready, knife in hand, to meet him. 

“ Well, well, we will not quarrel — I was hasty. 
Come, Lisette ! ” 

He extended his hand to her. She did not 
answer, neither did she accept the proffered hand 
of sudden friendship. She threw the knife from 
her upon the table, and with her eye upon him, 
bent over the pot again, and just as coolly as be- 
fore, she stirred the steaming soup. 

‘‘You forgive me then?” he pleaded, as he came 
towards her, wiping the blood from his face, as it 
slowly trickled down his forehead. 


40 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ Yes, on one condition : not a word of this to 
Jean Duprez. You hear me ? ” 

“ Not a whisper of it, since you want it so.” 

He sat down in the chair which she had left, and 
lighted his pipe again. 

They had measured secrets and strength with 
each other, and Gaspard knew the importance of 
concealing the encounter from their expected host. 


THE IDIOT AND HIS MASTER. 


41 


, (V ■ a i » \ • 


CHAPTER IV. 

THE IDIOT AND HIS MASTER. 

As Marie Lascour ran away towards the mountain 
to meet her lover, the widow, sad and thoughtful 
for a while, roused herself from her reverie, and 
took up the preparations for the supper, just where 
her daughter had left off. 

It was a source of relief to her, so she found 
a pleasure in it, and soon became so intent upon 
her work that the cautious opening of the half 
door was unnoticed, and Franz, the idiot protege 
of Jean Duprez, who was leaning over it, remained 
unseen. 

Observed at last, the boy nodded playfully to her 
and waited for some answer before he ventured to 
come in. She did not speak to him, but smiled in 
a sort of pitying, kindly way at the cautious manner 
in which he looked at her. 

“I’m coming in Madame, and just as the great big 
soldier jumped upon his horse to-day — I’ll take this 
door for a saddle, and over it I go— just so, 
Madame ! ” 


42 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


He vaulted over the low door as he spoke, and 
almost fell as he stumbled into the room. 

“That was a good jump, Madame Julie, wasn’t 
it ? ” he innocently asked, surveying the door with 
an apparent gratification at its height, and as if 
awaiting some word of commendation for his per- 
formance of the feat of jumping over it without a 
stumble or a touch, at least, without a heavy fall. 

“ Yes, Franz, come in.” 

“ Thank you, Ma’am Lascour, I am in — but you 
won’t tell me to go out, will you ? ” replied the boy, 
advancing towards the fire and standing in the light 
from it, looking down at the widow. 

As he stood there he was the picture of a pan- 
tomimic portrait. He was, in simple words, a change- 
ling. One of those waifs in the sea of human life 
which float about the surface of its great ocean, not 
utterly wrecked, but scarcely of any use or purpose. 
His dress was a curious combination of charity gar- 
ments, given him from the half-worn out stores of 
the boys of the Canton, and a contribution from 
Duprez’s cast off wardrobe. Thanks to the kind 
interest of the donors, it was suited to the season. 
The grey blouse of a wood-cutter was the most 
prominent, and that blouse from the extreme length 
of the skirt, served to hide any deficiencies in the 
coverings afforded to his legs. In fact, the lad 
seemed to be all blouse , except where a pair of 
wooden shoes finished the bottom of the picture, 
and a well-worn blue cap, gave it a heading. 


THE IDIOT AND HIS MASTER. 


43 


Half-witted — an idiot with some sane moments — 
“Poor Franz ” was an object of commiseration to the 
people of the neighborhood, and an object of curi- 
osity to those who chanced to visit it. He worked 
at odd times with the wood-cutters, carried water 
and piled up fagots for the women, and ran with 
messages or did the drudgery for Jean Duprez, his 
especial protector, and his unrelenting master, for 
the bread which he gave the lad was far more scanty 
than his blows, and his curses and chastisements 
were far more frequent than his kind indulgences. 

The boy was a frequent visitor at the cottage, 
and the widow often suffered herself to be annoyed 
by his prattling inquiries, rather than to rudely cast 
him off. He made himself most thoroughly at 
home, it seemed, for he scanned with a hungry eye 
the food upon the table, and helped himself to a piece 
of brown bread, biting huge mouthfuls from it as 
he moved away from her. He was next attracted 
by Marie’s work-basket lying on the little wicker 
stand by the window, in which he found some pieces 
of gay-colored ribbons, and some worsted, and com- 
menced at once to wind the ribbons about his fingers. 

“ Ain’t they pretty Ma’am Lascour ? ” he asked, 
in foolish glee. “ See how they flutter, just like the 
big long streamers that the soldiers had upon their 
flags to-day ! ” 

“ Where have you seen any soldiers, Franz ? 
There are none here.” His remark alarmed the 
widow, and her inquiry was earnest. 


44 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ Oh, yes — I saw them — there were four soldiers 
and a general here to-day, and they had a blue 
flag with them, with a big gilt eagle on the top of 
it. They were talking with Master Jean a while 
ago, and he told them he was coming here.” 

“What for? I did not send for him — what 
does he want of me to-day, I wonder ? ” 

“Why, Ma’am Lascour, Jean Duprez is my 
master. lie doesn’t tell me what he is going to do 
when he goes out.” 

“ What did he say to the soldiers — did you hear 
them talking ? ” 

“ They told him they were coming here to get 
more soldiers, and he gave them the names of lots 
of men upon a paper.” 

“ Did he give them Pierre’s name, too ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, he did ; the first one of them all. I 
heard him, Ma’am Lascour. He wanted them to 
tell him all about the drawing for the soldiers, and 
who the great big general they waited for was.” 

“Was that all he said, Franz?” inquired the 
widow, somewhat anxiously, fearing lest the boy 
should lose the thread of his replies, so fraught 
with interest to her. 

“ I couldn’t hear them talk, for they went into 
the inn, and he gave them wine to drink, and pipes 
to smoke. And then he kicked me, and I went 
away. See, Ma’am Lascour,” and the boy pointed 
towards the door, “ there’s some one coming — and 
it’s Master Jean.” 


THE IDIOT AND HIS MASTER. 


45 


The words were true. Jean Duprez, while he had 
been expected home to supper by Lisette and 
Gaspard, had been creeping silently and watchfully 
towards the door, and had overheard the closing 
sentence of the conversation. 

With a quick, smart blow, he struck the boy 
across the shoulders with the cane he carried, and 
would have continued his beating, had not the 
widow interfered. 

“ Don’t, don’t Duprez ! the boy has done no harm, 
and your blows to him are hard and frequent. ’Tis 
a shabby sort of pastime to beat a boy, to say the 
least of it.” 

“ Then let him take himself off, and stop prating 
lies about his master ! I wish to have a word with 
you, alone.” 

Too glad to escape a second beating, the lad 
shrunk from him, and, still with the ribbon in his 
fingers, left the cottage, as Julie handed a chair to 
Duprez, motioning him to sit. 

“ No — I have no time to waste ; ” was the sullen 
reply to her politeness. “ My business can soon be 
told ; you know it.” 

“ And I cannot meet your demands. You know 
the cattle have failed me, and, though the sum I 
owe you is a small one, I cannot pay it,” said the 
widow, sadly. 

“Tut, tut, Julie, I do not want the rent. But I 
want your pretty daughter, Marie.” 

Julie Lascour trembled as she heard the words, 


46 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


and for a time, both were silent ; then, with an air 
of patronizing impudence, he continued : 

“ You are poor, and she is poor — and I am rich. 
At least, the people here-about accuse me of being 
so, and I don’t deny it. You know, Julie, you 
and I are old friends — ” 

“No more of that, Duprez,” said the widow, 
quickly. “ Those feelings of old friendship died 
years ago. Go on.” 

She seated herself by the window as she spoke, 
waiting with cool indifference to hear his story 
out. 

“Well, it matters little what we were. You 
called me a fool, once, for loving you — and I called 
you a fool for trying to run away from the castle 
De Briennes with a visitor to the marquis.” 

“ Yes, I was young and foolish, then ; but I am 
wiser now. Enough to know that I escaped a ruin 
which an idle fancy, and perhaps dislike to you, 
would have led me into. None knew of that but 
you, and it is so long ago that if you told it now, 
it would — ” 

“ Sully the fair name of Jacque Lascour’s widow, 
whom all think immaculate. But I don’t love 
your daughter the less for it, Julie.” 

“ Why should you — if indeed you can love any 
one, except yourself ? ” 

“Yes, why should I?” retorted Duprez, with 
mock severity. “ I love her, as all men love a 
pretty woman. And I mean to marry her. I am 


THE IDIOT AND HIS MASTER. 47 

here to-day, — in just so many plain wowls, Julie 
Lascour, — to ask you what you say to it.” 

“ Have you spoken to Marie ? ” 

“No — nor will I, till the matter is arranged. I 
love her, and I mean to marry her. She can learn 
to love me, as you did her father.” 

“Leave the dead alone, Duprez! He was a 
good man, and a true one. Marie does not love 
you, and you cannot marry her. She and Pierre — ” 
The mention of the foundling’s name vexed the 
ex-steward. It seemed to be a tender point with 
him, and he turned fiercely towards the speaker. 

“ Your Pierre, perhaps — a fitting foster-brother ! ” 
“That is a lie, Jean Duprez, and you know it! 
I wish I knew whose boy he was, and then — ” 
“Then, you would give your pretty daughter to 
him ? And you cannot do so now. He is a waif of 
the snow storm, who, perhaps, does not know the his- 
tory of his fond protectress. He should be told the 
story of the young Count Eric, whose romantic 
runaway with pretty Julie caused the scandal at 
the castle years ago ; — would it not sound well ? ” 
“Make it known then, if you wish You knew 
me — ” 

“ As the pretty handmaid of the Spanish mar- 
quise ; and you knew me — ” 

“As Jean Duprez, ex-steward to the Marquis 
De Briennes, who silently took away the mother 
with her infant children, and reported them dead , 
a few months afterward.” 


48 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ Rumor has a way of saying things, sometimes, 
Madame. Enough of this, to-day. You have a 
secret of mine, and I have one or two secrets of 
yours. We should learn discretion. I love your 
daughter, and I would marry her.” 

“ Settling on her a thousand livres of your con- 
fiscated wealth, perhaps? She does not need it. 
She is betrothed to Pierre, and at her twentieth 
year, she will be his wife, unless she chooses to 
accept your gold. You may have me in your 
power, Duprez, but you cannot have my child. 
For the rest, you must settle your account with 
Pierre Niege ! ” 

A cralty smile passed over Duprez’ s face as the 
widow spoke, and he walked towards the doorway. 
For a few seconds, he stood in silence ; then, as 
she turned carelessly away from him, he bowed to 
her in mock civility, but with hardly the courtly 
grace of a cavalier, which he tried to effect. 

“ I thank you for the hint, Madame. As every- 
thing is fair in love and war, — at least you thought 
it so, and undertook, years ago, to teach me the 
lesson, — I will settle my account with your snow 
storm foundling, Pierre Niege. Good day to you.” 

“Good day to you, Jean Duprez.” 

It was a sullen and a disagreeable parting, almost 
portentous of some hidden purpose; and so, the 
shadow passed away from the widow’s door, leaving 
Franz still busy with the contents of the basket 
on the work-stand. 




THE LOVERS’ SECRET. 


49 


CHAPTER Y. 

THE LOVERS’ SECRET. 

While Jean Puprez was pressing his claim to 
Marie’s hand, if not her love, Marie Lascour was 
winding her way down one of the steepest moun- 
tain pathways. She carried in her arms an old- 
fashioned carabine, such as the Alpine hunters 
used, while Pierre Niege labored along behind her, 
with the carcase of a young chamois slung over 
his shoulders, the legs bound together across his 
breast, as was the custom with the Alsace trappers. 
Marie had gone to meet her lover, and was tired 
after her walk, so they had stopped awhile to 
rest. 

“ My little pet is weary,” said the not less tired 
hunter, as he pressed a kiss upon her cheek, and 
threw the chamois kid down at her feet. “You 
should not have come so far.” 

“Then you should have hunied home to hear 
the news to-day.” 

“ The news, Marie ? What is it ? ” 

“News of the war, Pierre, and bad news enough 


50 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


for both of us! News from the grand army. 
They have been fighting bravely, and Duprez 
said — ” 

“ Nothing good of any one, I warrant,” inter- 
rupted Pierre, with sudden warmth. “ He is a 
traitor to his own conscience, and to his country.” 

“ He said that they were coming here to Alsace 
for recruits, and that you would have to go away 
with them. But you cannot , Pierre — they cannot 
take you from me ? ” 

She clung to him fondly, pausing for an answer, 
which the young man did not give. She saw that 
he was annoyed ; she did not care to offend him by 
pressing her inquiry, and so, they started again, in 
silence, towards the cottage. 

The little news that had already spread through- 
out the Canton, from the few stragglers who had 
reached the inn, was conflicting. There was but lit- 
tle satisfaction given in answer to the peasants’ 
questions; and Marie’s detailed account of what 
she had heard, was at best a doubtful one. 

“ These are strange times, Marie,” at length he 
said, as they neared the cottage. “There are 
rumors of a long and tedious war with Russia, and 
Austerlitz has been a bloody field of battle for the 
French. To-day, I learn there was a notice posted 
up of the conscription.” 

“ But you are safe, Pierre — they cannot take you 
from me ? ” 

“Perhaps, my darling. You know your good, 


THE LOVERS’ SECRET. 


51 




kind mother’s pledge, that you should not be my 
wife till the wreaths were woven for your next 
birthday. She has given her word to Father 
Eustace.” 

“ But we are married, Pierre, for all that. And 
that is the secret between us and Father Michel. 
You know I have the scrip from him, the day we 
were made husband and wife at the little chapel. 
You cannot be taken in the army, then ? ” 

She seemed doubting as she spoke, and turned 
her eyes to him, as if in supplication for that assur- 
ance of his exemption from the conscription, which 
should give her some relief. 

“ I must stand my chance with them, my little 
black-eyed darling ! — It is our secret now, but it 
may serve to save me, if I am conscripted. You 
have that paper still, Marie ? ” 

“ Here, in my bosom, close to my very heart, 
and there it shall remain, till it may save you from 
the war,” she answered gladly, and pressed her 
hand upon her breast, to feel that the important 
paper was still hidden there. 

“You must not meet trouble in advance, Marie. 
It will come soon enough ; and time enough to meet 
it when it comes.” 

They were close upon the cottage now, and he 
flung the chamois from his shoulder by the door- 
step, passing Jean Duprez, who had been lurking 
near, waiting to see Marie. 

She scarcely spoke to him, and returned his 


52 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


salutation coldly, as he joined the group of peas- 
ants who were toiling up the hill, stopping only a 
moment to watch the lovers as they disappeared, 
then walking quickly onward, with a steady and 
determined step. 

Madame Lascour had left the house, and save 
the idiot hoy, Franz, who had stealthily returned 
to the room after following’her out, and was search- 
ing in the rubbish on the table for more ribbons, 
there was no one to welcome the lovers. Pierre 
threw down his hat, and loosened the girth which 
held his flask and ammunition pouch. He went 
carelessly into the little chamber to put away his 
carabine, and Marie, leaving the boy still search- 
ing for the ribbons, sat listlessly near the fire, glad 
to find the warmth in the dull blaze, and shivering 
from the cool night air. 

She stopped in her musing for a moment and 
glanced anxiously around her, and then closed the 
door to the chamber into which Pierre had gone. 

Then, taking a piece of yellow parchment from 
her bosom, she held it down by the firelight, and 
studied the hurried writing across its face. 

“Yes, there it is,” she murmured — “the scrip 
from Father Michel, which may be more than life 
to me. It is not safe — I may lose it — and I must 
hide it somewhere.” 

The boy Franz had by this time secured the 
playthings which he had been looking for, and as 
he saw that she was watching him, he held his 


THE LOVERS’ SECRET. 


53 


hand full of ribbons towards her, in mute appeal to 
be allowed to keep them. 

She answered him by a smile of approval, which 
he was but too ready to understand. He seemed 
expecting some reproof from her, and, glad to es- 
cape it, sat down in the doorway, busy with *his 
playthings and intently engaged in twirling them 
about his fingers. 

A single glance at the chimney decided Marie 
how and where to conceal the precious evidence of 
her marriage. She tore off the lower half of the 
parchment, which was blank, and tossed it towards 
the fire. Then, searching among the wide stones 
of the fireplace for a crevice, she folded the remain- 
ing portion of the scrip, and placed the parchment 
in the opening between the stones. This done, she 
resumed her work just as Pierre emerged from the 
adjoining room, and walked down towards the 
meadow to meet Madame Lascour, and take the 
pail of milk which she was carrying ; as he left he 
called to Marie to come and see the sun as it 
died away behind the mountains. 

Eager to meet her mother, and to make amends 
in a loving kiss for her long absence, Marie, with 
a light step, passed the boy, who was twining the 
ribbon around the ear of the chamois, lying near 
the door, noticing him as little as though she had 
never known him. She went out into the twilight, 
and ran down towards the meadow among the 
tall grass, seeing only her mother and her lover, 


54 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


who were silently watching the shadow of the sunset. 

N ot so with Franz. The mischief which prompted 
him to secure the ribbons, tempted him also to 
watch Marie. While busy with his play, with the 
foolish instincts of a changeling, and with the curi- 
osity peculiar to his kind, he had noted her move- 
ments in and around the chimney. Nothing had 
escaped his seemingly idle notice, and he was silent 
in watching her. 

He wondered what she had hidden away, and 
where she had hidden it, and what for. The half- 
scorched parchment lay in the full light of the 
fire, and he soon saw it. Though he could not 
have told one character from the other, much less 
their meaning, had it been written over, he knew 
that the remainder of the parchment was of value 
from the care the girl had taken to conceal it. 

It was but a moment’s quick work to discover 
the crevice in which she had hidden away the 
other half so carefully, and he picked it out from 
its hiding-place with the knife that she had used, 
putting the discarded piece in its place and hiding 
the precious portion in his hand. 

“She’s worse than Master Jean,” he laughed. 
“ He hides his papers and his money in the old 
vault below the wine-cellar, but Marie hides bits 
of old dry paper in the chimney. It is a joke, to 
take it. I wouldn’t steal it either — I can keep it 
with my other playthings, and I’ll get Master Jean 
to write his letters on it.” 


THE LOVERS’ SECRET. 


55 


Marie and Pierre were close upon him by this 
time, and he crept back to the door and began 
playing with the chamois, just as they reached the 
steps before it. 

“ See Marie, see,” he said, in guilty tones, as she 
looked down at him, “how pretty the ribbons are 
in the ears of my new pet ! I wish that Pierre would 
kill the big ones, though, don’t you ? ” 

The peculiar tone in which the boy had spoken 
stopped them all, and for a moment, Marie paused 
and looked down at him as though to find out what 
reason he could have had for his evasive remark, 
so strangely put and with so trembling an accent. 
He did not look up, however, but kept busy with 
his work. Then seeing that she noticed him, con- 
tinued in a childish way : 

“ The kids are all so soft and pretty, and their 
round eyes look so ugly, and they stare so when 
they’re dead.” 

There was a touching pathos in his words, and 
she kindly bade him get up and take his ribbons 
and go home. 

“It is late, Franz, and Jean Duprez will whip 
you if you get home after dark. Come, get your 
piece of bread, and you may have the pretty 
ribbons if you want them. You are whipped 
enough without deserving it, so you must not stay 
here to get a beating when you do go home.” 

Without an answer, the lad unwound the silken 
streamers from the ear of the dead chamois, and 


56 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


followed Marie into the cottage for the promised 
piece of bread, with his ribbon carefully guarded 
in his clenched fist. With a word of thanks, and 
eating the bread which she had given him, he 
passed down the roadway as she closed the door, 
shutting the sunset and the idle changeling from 
the cheerful light and glowing blaze within. 


ALMOST A COMPACT. 


57 


CHAPTER VI. 

ALMOST A COMPACT. 

The news from Napoleon which the straggling 
soldiers brought from the front, soon had its effect 
upon the people of the unpretending mountain 
village. Every rumor from the war was eagerly 
watched for, and from the ominous silence of the 
more knowing ones, those less interested in the 
events of the campaign were busy in the circula- 
tion of the news that the balance of power seemed 
turned against the French, or at best, that Napoleon 
had been temporarily checked in his victorious 
march. 

In the grey dawn of the early morning, a dusty 
courier mounted on a jaded horse, had been quarter- 
ed at the auberge on the road leading towards the 
Travelers’ Cross. The story of toilsome and 
fatiguing marches and hard fighting had been 
poured into the ready and over-credulous ears of 
the landlord, and a strange crowd had collected in 
and around the tap-room. Throughout the day 
there had been a general suspension of work, and 


58 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


by nightfall there was a solemn, ominous silence, 
broken only by an occasional murmur. The 
women gathered in knots, and the wood- cutters 
paused idly in their journey towards the mountains. 
Gaston, the nervous landlord, had done a thriving 
day’s work in the bottles of new wine that he had 
already opened. Not a few women were among 
the throng, with anxious faces, feeling that news 
of some importance was soon to be told. One or 
two invalid soldiers reclined lazily in the sunlight, 
watching the increasing crowd with the look of 
complacent knowledge to which their service in 
the battles had given them the privilege, and were 
exchanging jokes or grumbling at the few soldiers 
who wore the soiled uniform of the grand army, 
and who were not yet fortunate enough to be 
counted off duty. 

The agony of waiting was soon over. An old 
veteran, with a soiled and ragged emblem of the 
Cross of the Legion of Honor dangling on his 
breast, was tacking the notice of the conscription 
on the door-post, and groups of young men with 
anxious, and some with sad faces, were pressing 
around him. 

The order was an imperative and an urgent one. 
But one day’s warning had been given, and already 
a carefully prepared list of the names of those 
eligible to the drawing had been posted up beneath 
the printed notice. 

While they were interrogating the old soldier as 


ALMOST A COMPACT. 


59 


to the news from the war, and while he was busy 
answering their questions in short, quick sentences, 
all non-committal as to defeat, and all indefinite as 
to victory, Jean Duprez came towards them. 

Instinctively the crowd parted at his coming. 
He seemed a fitting accompaniment to the dreaded 
notice, and there was no impediment to his study- 
ing it attentively. 

With what seemed to be a smile of satisfaction, 
he read it, and ran his eye carelessly over the list 
of names beneath it, and then, without a word, 
passed into the inn, calling for some wine and 
biscuit, and inviting the old soldiers to drink with 
him. 

He knew the way to reach the more vulnerable 
points in the hearts of the old campaigners. He 
had already given the list of conscripts to the re- 
cruiting sergeant, and he was on good terms with 
the men who were to conduct the drawing. His 
interview was short, however. After a few 
moments’ watching of the anxious crowd, he sat 
down by one of the tables in the corner over his 
own especial bottle and biscuit, and the women 
moved away in groups to carry the news to their 
companions in sorrow, that there would soon be 
a scarcity of lovers among them. In the crowded 
cities, where the bulletins and the idlers gave the 
intelligence of each day’s events, and where the 
hurry of preparation for the war gave an impetus 
to trade, and enriched the wine-sellers, the drafts 


60 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


were easily made and there were thousands of 
careless and adventurous ones to whom a place in 
the ranks was almost a godsend, and the demands 
of the grand army were too imperative to give 
much time for choice in the selection of soldiers. 
But in the Cantons of France, among the peasants, 
there was the stern resolution to defend their fire- 
sides, hut little of the enthusiasm in the war 
which would impel them to go beyond their own 
homes, and to seek glory in the ranks, though the 
glory should be a lasting one to the arms and 
to the cause of Napoleon. 

And so it was in the Canton of Alsace. As soon 
as the news of the conscription had spread, the 
women went sadly away from the inn-keeper’s 
door, leaving Duprez almost solitary in his seat in 
the corner. 

As he was sitting in his sullen mood, — perhaps 
the humor may have been suited to the occasion, 
for secretly he was satisfied at witnessing the 
peasants’ dismay, — the idiot boy, Franz, came 
slowly in at the door, and seeing Duprez, attempted 
to retreat. 

The quick eye of the master discerned the boy’s 
movement, and he beckoned him to come in. 
Franz stopped and mumbled something in a hesi- 
tating stammer, either alarmed at the unusual 
kindness, or framing some excuse for his intrusion, 
when Duprez grasped him by the arm and dragged 
him towards the table. 


ALMOST A COMPACT. 


61 


“ Where have you been, you gaping fool ? 
What new mischief have you done ? ” 

<{ No mischief, Master Jean ! I’ve been over to 
Madame Lascour’s to help her eat her dinner, that 
is all.” 

As he stole away from Duprez, and ran over 
towards the tap-room counter, he tried, awkwardly, 
to hide something in his sleeve, and with his face 
averted, was making good progress towards the 
door, when a file of soldiers came near, and his 
attention was immediately fixed on them. 

With the foolish and peculiar stare of a change- 
ling, he stood in the doorway, watching them, 
clapping his hands merrily as the sound of the 
drum ceased, and they stacked arms in the road, 
scattering themselves about the rooms. 

The motion of his hands served to betray him to 
his master, for he had forgotten the hiding of the 
stolen treasure in his sleeve. The scrap of parch- 
ment fell to the floor and he stooped to pick it up. 
Not, however, before Duprez had again seized him 
by the shoulder, and dealt him a quick, sharp blow. 

The boy screamed with terror and glared at 
Duprez with a fierce and dangerous look. Duprez 
knew the glance well, and he knew that fear alone 
could keep him quiet. 

True to his well-known means of subjection, he 
was about to deal him a second blow, when one of 
the soldiers interposed, and caught in his hand the 
uplifted cane. 


62 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ Come, come, my friend, your blows are heavy ! ” 

With a quiet, but determined look, the soldier 
stood between Duprez _and Franz. 

“ Well, if they are ? The fool’s a thief, and has 
been stealing something and hiding it in his sleeve. 
Look there ! ” 

He pointed at the crumpled paper lying on the 
floor, and picked it up, watching the soldier as he 
did so, and carelessly claiming the paper as his 
own, although alike ignorant of its character or 
contents. Knowing the boy’s peculiarities, he 
thought that Franz had stolen something of which 
he did not know the value, but it might be of 
value to him, and he meant to possess it. 

He glanced at the paper as he held it in his hand, 
and then, in a careless tone, spoke to the soldier, 
in extenuation of his severity to Franz. 

“ He lives with me. I know him well, but he 
has a habit of stealing my papers, for fun, as he 
calls it, and gives me much trouble. It is nothing 
but a memorandum of some payments. Let him 
go.” 

It was no affair of any one but himself; and the 
boy, glad to escape, ran out and away from the 
inn, while Duprez put the paper in his pocket, 
without any further examination, and called for 
the wine and biscuit. He had seized upon the best 
way to enlist the favor or sympathy of the soldiers, 
and the men were quite ready, if not especially 
willing, to indulge in the refreshments at Duprez’s 


ALMOST A COMPACT. 


expense. Gaston was busy for his own profit, and 
the topics of the war were rapidly discussed, to the 
exclusion of the idlers, who gradually left the inn 
and wandered off in various directions, all specu- 
lating on the result of the conscription. 

Thanks to the general dislike to the soldiery, an 
opportunity was soon given Duprez to learn from 
the veterans their mode of drawing. The prepara- 
tions for the conscription were complete, and the 
examination of the census records had been a rigid 
one. The list, already prepared, had been correct- 
ed by a master hand. Duprez had omitted none, 
and he found a good appreciation of his onerous 
service in the boisterous and bibulous companion- 
ship of the soldiers who flocked around him. 

“You have pretty women here, my friend,” re- 
marked the guide-sergeant of the company. “ It is 
a pity for the lads to have to leave such sweet- 
hearts.” 

“ But the army needs them,” suggested the 
ex-steward, conscious of his cwn safety, and not 
especially solicitous for others, “ and patriotism 
should be at a premium.” 

“ Not quite so high as Napoleon would have it, 
then,” incautiously remarked his companion, “ for 
we have had hard fighting, and the recruiting ser- 
vice is a luxury. ” 

The effect of the wine was quite apparent. The 
men were watching their sergeant with some 
anxiety. His words were incautious, and the idiot 


64 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


boy and some of the peasants had again wandered 
into the room. 

A quick whisper from his comrade brought the 
color to the cheeks of the talkative soldier, as he 
observed the men crowding around them. Duprez, 
with a forethought engendered by his own crafti- 
ness, had sense enough to check the conversation 
before it had been heard by those around him, and 
escaped the impending disaster to the cause of the 
conscription, by calling to Jeannette for candles 
and more biscuit. Aroused to a sense of his duty, 
the garrulous color-sergeant was soon silenced by 
an admonition from one of the drowsy veterans in 
the corner, in terms rather more expressive than 
polite, but quite effective. 

The room was soon cleared of the stragglers, the 
arms were unstacked, the drum beat, and the men 
formed in line for marching before the door, eagerly 
watched by the women who had gathered about, 
and sullenly watched by the expectant peasants. 

Left to himself, Duprez cautiously examined the 
paper taken from the boy. The flickering flame 
of the candle served his purpose well, and the 
brow of the ex-steward lowered as he spread it out 
upon the table, eagerly scanning its contents. 

“ So, they are married,” he muttered to himself, 
as he carefully folded up the the certificate, “ and 
secretly. Ah, Madame Julie, you should teach 
your daughter to be far more careful of her mar- 


ALMOST A COMPACT. 


65 


riage scrip ! A few cinders will tell no tales, and 
the boy has done me a good service, this time ! ” 

With a stealthy look at the bar-maid, who was 
watching him, he paused, as he held the paper in 
his hand. He was curious and uneasy at Jean- 
nette’s impudence, but concealed his feelings, as he 
called for some port. 

“Do you mean the old wine, sir, or will this do ? ” 

She held the bottle up to show the brand upon 
it, as she spoke, still watching her customer and 
the paper he was carelessly twirling in his hand. 

“ Ho. I want your best wine from the cellar. 
You may bring it, please — Franz will hold the 
light for you.” 

He motioned to the boy as he spoke, and the 
lad raised the trap in the floor leading towards the 
cellar steps. The girl went down into the vault, 
and the boy stood half way down the stairway, 
shading the candle with his hand to protect it from 
the draught coming from below, as Duprez closed 
the front door, and raised the candle from his 
table, holding the paper towards the flame. 

“ A pretty safeguard for sweet Marie’s evidence,” 
he laughed, as the parchment began to burn. “ It 
is safer here with me than where she would have 
placed it.” 

He turned towards the trap-door to watch 
cautiously for Jeannette’s return. As he did so, 
the head of the idiot boy rose from the open trap, 
and it was too late to destroy the paper. The 


66 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


quick opening of the door brought a blast of the 
cool night air, and the light held by the boy was, 
with a sudden flare, extinguished. The lad stum- 
bled towards him, still watching him, and in the 
uneasy flickering light of the taper held in his own 
hand, Duprez could see the mischievous and inquir- 
ing expression on the lad’s face ; so he placed the 
paper carelessly in the pocket of his coat, and 
closed the trap-door after them. 

It was well that he did so. A moment after, 
without so much as a knock for admission, the 
stout form of a captain in the recruiting service 
stood in the doorway. 

“Ah, friend, I may salute you ! This is an inn, 
I see, and, it aeems, without a landlord ! ” 

“ I can answer sir,” replied the girl, with a look 
of astonishment at the impatient soldier. “ Can I 
serve you ? ” 

“Serve me, yes — where are my men? They 
were to have waited here for me. My courier has 
been here already ? ” 

The sharp manner in which he launched his 
words, annoyed Jeannette, and Duprez stepped 
forward to relieve her. 

“ Your courier was here to-day. I gave the list 
to him and he — ” 

“ Then you are M. Jean Duprez ? ” 

“ I am — and you are — ” 

“Captain Maurice Fusil. I am as tired as a 
spent bullet, and as choked and dusty as a cavalry 


ALMOST A COMPACT. 


67 


charger after a hard run from an enemy. Come, 
girl, some wine, and of your best. Be quick about 
it!” 

With an impatient tug at the buckle, the officer 
loosened his sword belt, and flung the weapon on 
the table before him. Then, with a glance at his 
dusty coat and boots, he surveyed his portly form 
in the glass hung over the back of the bar, and 
again turned to Duprez. 

“ Your roads are long, and rough, and dusty. 
You had the list prepared then, and it has been 
posted? I am late in getting here, and I have 
much to do — ” 

The conversation was interrupted by Jeannette, 
who placed candles upon the table, and set the 
wine before them. She seemed half afraid of the 
gold-laced soldier, and Franz, who had taken up the 
sword, was fumbling with the knots about the 
handle, with a curious and more than half-witted 
smile upon his cold, hard features. 

“But you will have time enough to rest here 
awhile before your work begins. You have seen 
much service ? ” asked Duprez as he motioned the 
captain to a seat. 

He saw that his best point was a friendly chat 
with the new arrival, and he at once determined to 
profit by it. The inquiry was intended to be a 
flattering one, and as such it was successful, though 
the answer to it was a strange one. 

“Too much service, M. Duprez, believe me. 


68 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


Hard marching, and bad work, this hunting after 
food for stretchers and hospitals. This recruiting 
service is no fun, with only the pay of a captain of 
infantry, and an occasional perquisite to settle 
one’s bills with. I am looking for two things 
to-night — conscripts and a supper. What have 
you to eat here, my girl, in your poorly named inn 
of the ‘ Travelers’ Rest ? ’ I’d rather charge upon 
a larder now, and dispute possession of its contents 
with my sword, than to gain a victory over a pack 
of mongrel Prussians, disputing a passage with 
the guard ! ” 

The suddenness of the inquiry, and the decidedly 
unwarlike expression of the doughty captain was 
amusing both to Jeannette and to Duprez. The 
bill of fare, scanty though good, was soon told 
over to the hungry stranger, and his order, given 
before it had been fully considered, to bring all 
that she had, and plenty of it, was an earnest one 
at least. 

“You’ll sup with me, Duprez? Jeannette, 
Susanne, Javotte, or whatever you may be, another 
glass and plate here for my friend.” 

He stretched himself out lazily as he spoke, and 
motioned Duprez to sit. The ex-steward paused a 
moment, as if in doubt about accepting so sudden 
an invitation. Then, as the thought struck him 
that he might offend by non-acceptance, he broach- 
ed the bottle of port which had been set for him, 
and filling the glass, passed it towards Fusil. 


ALMOST A COMPACT. 


69 


With an air of importance, and an earnest look 
that would have read the captain through and 
through, had he been more penetrable, he placed his 
hand upon the soldier’s shoulder. 

“Rather with me, captain. This wine is old, 
and very rare. Let us drink it to Napoleon and 
to your conscript drawing here to-morrow ! ” 

He raised his own glass to his lips. Fusil tasted 
the contents of his, and then, rising from his seat, 
threw himself backward with the air of a connois- 
seur, and held his wine up to the light. 

“ You’re right, my friend. It is rare old port, 
and fit for Napoleon’s drinking. I am thirsty, 
and here’s to the grand army with all my heart. 
I have not drank since noon, and I am so thirsty, 
that, were my veins supplied with good champagne, 
or even with the sourest kind of German wine, I’d 
tap myself and hold a bottle to my jug’lar ! ” 
Duprez was measuring the captain quite as fast 
as the captain was measuring the wine. In a 
moment he had formed his plan — a deep laid, and 
a subtle one, with just a little of the dangerous in 
it — and he saw in the officer who was so tired and 
hungry, the man who, of all others could best 
serve his purpose. While they had been drinking, 
he had formed in his own mind a plan of action, 
needing but one accomplice. He had discovered 
the weak point of the captain, and he determined to 
profit by it. 

“Your supper is with me, if you’ll accept. 


70 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


Franz ! ” — and he called the boy towards him — 
“Tell Jeannette to cook a pheasant for us, and you 
help her pick it, and to bring my own brandy 
from the cupboard, for my friend, the captain ! ” 

Used to do his master’s bidding without look or 
question, the boy left the room, and went out 
towards the kitchen, from whence the smell of 
cooking was coming, in grateful essence to the 
hungry palate of the recruiting officer. Duprez 
saw his opportunity at once, and sat down with 
Fusil as neighborly and as friendly as though they 
had been old friends and comrades through many 
a hard campaign. 

“ You are ready then, for the conscription here ? ” 
he asked. “ Do you look for any resistance? I 
see you have your men already stationed. 

“Perhaps, but I hope not; still, we must be 
quick. I must march by nightfall to-morrow, and 
take my conscripts with me. The news from 
Napoleon is — ” 

“Not bad, I hope?” inquired Duprez, with as 
much anxiety in his tone as he could summon for 
the instant. 

“No, not bad, exactly. But the Prussians are 
encroaching still further ; some of our best men are 
in the fortified towns on the borders, and we must 
relieve them. My orders are imperative, and I 
must work quickly. 

“ You draw to-morrow then ; how early ? ” 

“ The earlier the better ; soon after sunrise, it I 


ALMOST A COMPACT. 


71 


can get the men together. There is less time then 
for crying among the women, and less time for 
trinket-giving among the men. These love-scenes 
are the worst phase of the recruiting service.” 

“ Sweethearts may be had for the asking, after 
you have gone, and wives may be had without so 
long a courtship, captain. But pardon, how do 
you draw ? by lot, or by name ? ” 

“ I shall draw by ribbons. The white ones go 
to glory and to war; the blue ones may remain at 
home to comfort the sweethearts whom their con- 
script lovers leave disconsolate. Why do you 
ask? you, at least, are in no danger of being 
drawn ! ” 

There was a touch of sarcasm in his remark, and 
Duprez heard it. But it did not serve his purpose 
to take umbrage or give quick answers to the care- 
less words of a good-natured and confiding soldier. 

“No fear of that, my friend ; I am past the age. 
I merely asked for curiosity ; — here, boy ! ” 

He threw a biscuit from the table towards 
Franz, who had come back from the kitchen and 
seemed to aw'ait his further orders, “and you may 
have this, if you want it.” 

He filled a glass of the wine and tasted it, then 
held it out towards the idiot. As the lad took it, 
and mumbled a word of thanks for so unexpected 
a luxury, Duprez wdped the liquor from his grey 
moustache, and bade the boy take his wine and 
Mscuit towards the fire. 


72 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


As he returned the handkerchief to his pocket, 
the quick eye of the lad followed it, and caught 
the momentary flash of a paper which fell from 
his master’s pocket to the floor. Almost involun- 
tarily he stopped in his shuffling gait towards the 
fire-place ; but he was afraid of Duprez, so he 
crept away with his wine and biscuit, content to 
watch his master and the captain from his place 
beside the chimney. 

The meal prepared by Jeannette, was soon 
spread before them, and for the most part, en- 
joyed in silence. Duprez had been somewhat sur- 
prised at Fusil’s sudden sally of sarcastic wit, and 
Fusil was quite hungry enough to allow Duprez 
the full benefit and satisfaction of leading the 
conversation. 

“You said you drew by ribbons, captain ; the 
white ones to be drawn for service ? ” 

“Yes — the white ones go with me.” 

“You have the choice of color, then, and have 
made your decision ? ” 

“Yes; do you want some friend, or relative 
of yours, to draw a blue one ?” 

There was a keen look of cunning impatience on 
the captain’s face as he spoke, and he raised his 
wine to his lips and gazed at Duprez across the 
table, waiting for the answer. 

Duprez raised his own glass as he paused to 
reply. For a moment each studied the other 
attentively. Then, scanning the officer with a 


ALMOST A COMPACT. 


73 


careless look, Duprez smiled, and setting down his 
own glass, re-filled the captain’s. 

“Not a blue one, captain, this time. You can 
do me a service, may I ask it ? ” 

“ Yes, if it’s honorable. You want some one to 
draw a white ribbon then, it seems. Who is it ? ” 
“A worthless fellow who is a tax on me; a 
good-humored village vagabond, whom I would 
send off to the war to learn wisdom. You spoke 
of poor pay and perquisites. You can trust me, I 
assure you, and I will pay a fair price for a white 
ribbon.” 

The suddenness and coolness of the proposition 
startled even the good-humored officer. He joked 
Duprez upon his object, and Duprez laughed at his 
surmises, again repeating his request, but in a 
lower tone, and this time in a cool, deliberate 
voice which had the ring of money in its muffled 
accents. 

“ You will never hear of it again, and no one will 
be the wiser,” he pleaded. “ It is a whim of mine, 
and if you think that you can trust me, I should 
like to have just one white ribbon, and you may be 
certain of just one more conscript! ” 

The captain was tardy in his answer. He knew 
that he would do wrong in giving the ribbon, and 
yet he could see no reason why he should not trust 
Duprez. Besides, the ex-steward had been of ser- 
vice to him already, in his revision of the conscript 
list. He had saved him some trouble, and his 


74 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


wine and pheasant were alike palatable. Duprez 
saw that he was gaining his point, and soon ceased 
to press it, turning the conversation on the topics 
of the day. and plying the willing captain with the 
old port and the brandy. 

Supper concluded, they chatted over their cigar- 
ettes. Fusil was doggedly resolute in his refusal 
to comply. The demand was, perhaps, a slight 
one, yet his sense of honor forbade his humoring 
the generous-hearted ex-steward in his ardent de- 
sire for the ribbon. The growing anxiety evinced 
by Duprez to obtain the conscript-giving fragment 
of loyal silk was amusing to him, and he seemed 
to entertain the proposition. 

“Come, captain, one more stoup of the best 
brandy in Alsace, and then we will talk the matter 
over,” said Duprez, as he re-filled the glass and 
handed it across the table. “ Shall we say a bar- 
gain for the ribbon ? ” 

“ At least, not till to-morrow.” 

Fusil was decided in his answer, and refused the 
liquor. He was already half unsteady, and Franz, 
at a motion from Duprez, assisted him in arrang- 
ing his sword as he buckled the belt around him, 
and prepared to go out. 

As he did so, the lad kept, as he had not for a 
moment failed to do, his eye upon the scrap of 
paper lying at Duprez’s feet. 

As he helped his master with his hat and cane, 
he carefully covered the piece of coveted parch- 


ALMOST A COMPACT. 


75 


ment or paper, whichever it might be, with his foot, 
and dragged it with him towards the fire. Then, 
seizing a moment when no one was looking towards 
him, he stooped to pick up the biscuit which had 
rolled away from him, and when he again stood 
erect, he had concealed his prize within his cap, 
and pressed it tightly down upon his moppy pate. 

Duprez called to him to follow them, and as the 
door closed after the worthy captain and his new- 
found friend, the boy trudged after them towards 
the bivouac, keeping Duprez in sight, but carefully 
maintaining a respectful, if not a grateful, distance. 


76 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER VII. 

A SUIT OF HEARTS. 

If never before during the campaign, it was now 
evident in Alsace that war was imminent. The 
dread reality of taxation and conscription was no 
longer a doubt. It pressed upon them with an 
iron heel, and for months the region lying in the 
northern departments of France had paid heavy 
tribute to the grand army of Napoleon. 

As Spain w T as not yet a bone of contention, or an 
eligible field for conquest, the eagles of the French 
were being hurried across the frontier, 'and 'were 
swaying over the Prussian borders, from the forti- 
fied towns. Every Canton in the mountain dis- 
trict of the Vosges was alive with the bustle and 
preparations for the war ; and the tramp of men, 
the clash of arms, and the rumbling of artillery 
wagons, were loudly echoing amid the Cantons of 
the Bernese Alps. 

Discriminating in favor of none, the edict of con- 
scription had been promulgated, and the grand 
army was relentlessly stretching out its mailed and 


A SUIT OP HEARTS. 


77 


scarred hands for reinforcements, and the aid and 
material must be forthcoming, at whatever sacrifice 
or cost. 

To the people of the Canton there was a grim 
and almost ghastly mockery in the cry of “ Vive 
I? Empereur ,” as it rang down the line of men 
who had entered the Canton on their recruiting 
service under the leadership of Captain Maurice 
Fusil. The cry did ring down the line notwith- 
standing the apathy of the peasants, for there were 
veterans who came with the soldiers, whose scars 
were honorable. Grey-bearded and scarred men, 
whose beards w r ere like masks upon their faces, 
serving to hide the seams and furrows upon cheeks 
and chin. 

To the women it was a gala day. A holiday, 
because it was disloyal not to have it so, despite 
the fact that the cottage lights had burned late, 
and there were tears shed and heart-sore kisses 
given, before the dawning of the new day began 
the ordeal of the war’s conscription. 

Wood-cutters paused at the “Traveler’s Rest,” 
laid down their axes, and their bundles of cord and 
wedges, to see the drawing. Girls who were merry 
the day before, whose cheeks flushed with ex- 
citement, and whose dark eyes glistened with 
anticipation as Captain Fusil and Lieutenant Val- 
meau halted their men before the inn, were sad 
and quiet, awaiting the issue of the conscription 
which should determine the fate of those whom 


78 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


they held dear. The keen reality of prolonged 
war had broken upon them, and Alsace wore a 
different look, withal. 

At the cottage of Julie Lascour, there were sad 
hearts with the rest. In the call for men, Pierre 
Niege must stand his chance; and Madame Las- 
cour was far too loyal to show her great grief at 
the prospect of parting from him. She was 
poor. Too poor to purchase his release, and too 
far advanced in life to think that he could leave 
her, and return in safety when the war should be 
closed, and the remaining soldiers be returned to 
their cheerless firesides. But to Marie, the secret 
of her marriage, which she dared not divulge, 
pressed like a heavy weight upon her heart. There 
was a great and awful trial to her in the drawing, 
and she talked long and earnestly with Pierre, 
seeking to gain his consent to disclose their true 
relation towards each other. 

“ For shame, Marie ! ” said he, as he walked out 
into the sunlight, “ these tears are unworthy the 
brave heart of a hunter’s wife ! ” 

He was loading his carabine as he spoke, and as 
he slung it over his shoulder, he kissed her fondly, 
and glanced down the road, where knots of vil- 
lagers were gathering. 

“There, darling, just one kiss, and I will take 
just one more shot at the chamois, before the draw- 
ing. Besides, I see one who is no friend of yours, 
or mine, coming to make an early morning call.” 


A SUIT OIF HEARTS. 


79 


He sprang from her as he spoke, and she stood 
watching him as he passed away towards the moun- 
tain. When she lost sight of him, she turned, and 
Jean Duprez, with all the mock civility of which 
he was capable, bade her good morning, as he 
came towards the doorway of her mother’s cottage. 

He smiled upon her in his leering, self-complacent 
manner, and passed into the house, where Madame 
Lascour was awaiting him. Marie, who perhaps 
saw an omen of evil in his coming on such a day 
as the present, went away towards the goat-shed, 
glad to escape the double infliction of his attentions 
and his presence. 

“Good morning, Julie,” said Duprez, lifting his 
hat and extending his hand as he advanced towards 
the widow. u A fine day for the drawing.” 

“Good morning, Jean,” was her laconic reply, 
“ and a fine day for the drawing, if you call it so.” 

The ex-steward saw at a glance that he was not 
altogether a welcome visitor. He had taken the 
precaution to pave the way for his conversation by 
an allusion to the .conscription, and he had received 
a sullen answer. 

“He turned towards the window in silence, and 
watched Marie driving the goats down to the pas- 
ture ; then, as if in compliment to the mother, he 
half-murmured to himself : 

“ A pretty daughter, Julie, and a haughty one. 
She is quite like you — when you were younger — 
and trips among the daisies like a queen.” 


80 


PUT TO TIIE TEST. 


“She is all the world to me, at all events, 
Duprez,” replied the widow with a deep-drawn 
sigh, “ if she is only a peasant’s child.” 

“ She is a light-hearted child, J ulie ; she doesn’t 
stop to think that she may lose a lover, before the 
sun goes down to-day.” 

“ Perhaps. Yes, she is light-hearted, and well 
she may be. She has more friends in Alsace than 
you have, and more love for her home and her 
widowed mother, than you, who would make us both 
miserable.” 

She spoke in quick and steady tones, and looked 
keenly at Duprez. He smiled at her earnestness, 
and threw his hat and cane carelessly upon the 
table, then, extending his hand to her again, he said : 

“Not quite so hard as that, Julie. You know 
we are old friends, and, once upon a time, were 
something more.” 

Madame Lascour took the proffered hand, and 
her own trembled as she did so. “ But that was 
long ago, and should be forgotten. I am a widow 
now, and your tenant, Jean Duprez. What do you 
want of me to-day ? ” 

“ That which you can give me, if you choose.” 

“ And what is that ? Your rent is not yet due, 
and if it were, I could not pay it now.” 

“ That does not trouble me. I want your pretty 
daughter, Marie. We were speaking yesterday, of 
her, and you have by this time considered the 
proposition that I made you ? ” 


A SUIT OF HEARTS. 


81 


“It needed no consideration, Jean. Your own 
eyes must tell you that my Marie is no bride for 
you. Do not you see that she flies from the house 
whenever you enter it ? — she does not love you.” 

“ Perhaps not, when you forbid her doing so. 
Pshaw, Julie ! the girl will learn to love me, and I 
can offer you both a home, better than any in 
Alsace.” 

“We do not wish it, Jean Duprez,” replied the 
widow, with great warmth. “We are happy here, 
and all your demands for rent have, until now, 
been promptly met. Your persecution of my child 
is unmanly. It is useless — it would break her 
heart and Pierre’s, and I cannot force her to this 
marriage.” 

She stopped and looked down towards the vil- 
lage. The sound of far off drums was borne upon 
the air, and as the rumbling became more distinct, the 
steady tattoo of the roll-call caused her to neglect 
her work, as she saw Marie coming slowly back 
from the meadow. 

“ Many hearts and better ones than his may be 
broken soon, Julie Lascour. That roll-call is a 
summons which your handsome foundling must 
soon answer. He may soon turn out to be a con- 
script, and then — I may not be compelled to buy 
your daughter.” 

Marie, who had reached the door, approached 
her mother and placed her hand lovingly upon her 
shoulder. There were pent-up tears forcing their 


82 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


way into her eyes, but she contrived to hide them 
from Duprez, who stood with his face half-averted, 
watching her emotion. 

“Lovers, just now, are great uncertainties, 
Marie,” he said. “ The grand conscription is an 
impartial suitor, and there may be wives after it for 
merely asking. We were speaking, your good 
mother and I — ” 

A look of reproof from the widow, silenced him. 
The heart-strings of the girl were at their fullest 
tension, and the imploring glance from Julie Las- 
cour carried a volume of pity in its interpretation. 

“You will see the drawing, Madame Julie?” at 
length he asked. “ If so, may I walk down with 
you, towards the inn?” 

“ We will see the drawing, Jean, and be ready 
soon,” was all the answer that she made him, as she 
began her preparations for going out. 

It was hard for Marie to hide her agony from 
Duprez, and he w T as, for once in his life, con- 
siderate enough to spare her any further infliction 
of his ill-timed remarks, by waiting for her in 
the shade of the trees before the door. 

Perhaps he saw in her agitation some thoughts of 
him — lovers, be they even unwelcome ones are 
shadowy in the mid-day sun, sometimes — and so, 
in silence, and with lingering steps, the three took 
the narrow pathway leading towards the meeting- 
ground, where the men were gathering for the con- 
scription. 


A WHITE RIBBON, AND A CONSCRIPT. 


83 


CHAPTER VHI. 

A WHITE RIBBON, AND A CONSCRIPT. 

The soldiers were already marching and counter- 
marching in the space before the inn, while the men 
who were to stand their chances in the drawing 
were being summoned at the sound of the drum-beat. 

Conspicuous in the crowd, of lookers on was 
Franz; who, for the time, escaped from Duprez’s 
surveillance, and taking all possible advantage of 
his short respite, was moving about with a stick at 
his shoulder, and a knot of gay streamers tied to the 
end of it, fluttering like pennants in the breeze. 

Gaspard and Lisette were there also, standing 
just outside the hollow square formed by the sol- 
diers. They had locked the doors of their grim old 
house, and had betaken themselves to the roadside, 
for a holiday. 

Lisette started, for a moment, but only for a 
moment, as she saw Duprez approaching in com- 
pany with Julie Lascour and her daughter, and 
nudged Gaspard, to attract his attention to the un- 
usual sight. 


84 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“It should storm to-day, Lisette,” growled Gas- 
pard, as the ex-steward brushed past them. “ He 
has been making love in earnest. Marie Lascour 
is with him.” 

“ Little good will it do him, I can tell you,” re- 
plied Lisette, with a suggestive shrug of her low 
bent shoulders. “ She has a lover better suited to 
her tastes than Jean Duprez.” 

“Who do you mean, the handsome lieutenant 
who is coming to her ? See.” 

Duprez had by this time shaken hands with 
Captain Fusil, and had, in his excess of politeness, 
presented Madame Lascour and Marie to the re- 
cruiting officer and his lieutenant. It suited his 
purpose, just then, to be friendly with his old 
sweetheart, and Gaspard had witnessed his unusual 
civility. 

“ No,” replied Lisette, “ I mean the best hunter 
in the Canton, Pierre Niege. Do you see him 
anywhere ? ” 

Gaspard ran his eye down the line of soldiers, 
and then eagerly scanned the group of young men 
who were gathering around the drummers. 

“He is not there,” at length he said. “He is 
one of the conscripts named, I know. But Duprez 
must have purchased his release — ” 

“ Not unless a heavy price was paid him for it, 
perhaps the girl, who knows, Gaspard?” 

There was a dash of venom as she spoke, and 
Gaspard grumbled out an answer. But it was lost 


A WHITE IiIBBON, AND A CONSCELPT. 85 

in the loud beat of the drum, as the men were 
ordered to form in ranks in single file, and Lieu- 
tenant Valmeau stepped forward with the list in 
his hand to call the roll of those who must stand 
the ordeal of the drawing. 

Slowly the calling of the names progressed. 
The soldiers were formed in a semi-circle, and as 
eacli man answered to his name and stood in line, 
the women crowded close upon Fusil, who stood 
beside Duprez, with Marie and Madame Julie on 
his left, and Franz, standing partly behind them, 
peering out upon the line of soldiers. 

“ There are two men missing, captain,” said 
Yalmeau, handing the list to Fusil. “ Jacque 
La Rue, and Pierre Niege. Do you know them, 
sir?” 

The inquiry was addressed to Duprez, who 
looked down the line as if in search of the delin- 
quents, and was about to reply, when one of the con- 
scripts stepped forward a pace or two from the 
line, and making an awkward salutation to the 
officer, answered in his stead. 

“ Jacque La Rue is dying, captain. If you don’t 
want to draft a corpse, there’s no use calling him. 
The poor fellow’s arm was crushed two days ago, 
and scanty fare and poor nursing will finish him 
to-day.” 

The man stepped back into his place, and his 
story was found to be correct. Jacque La Rue 


86 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


had been injured while at work and was then 
almost dying from the lack of proper care. 

“ But you’ve one man missing, who is not dying, 
captain,” said Duprez. “ Pierre Niege — I saw him 
this morning, only, and he is not here.” 

There was a whispered conversation between 
Fusil, his lieutenant, and Duprez. Marie and 
Madame Julie watched them, feverish with anxiety. 
Duprez, after a moment’s hesitation, pointed 
towards their cottage, and four of the soldiers 
w^ere called from the ranks. 

The preparations made were quick and silent. 
A sergeant was detailed to search the cottage for 
the missing man ; and as in cold, deliberate tones 
the order was given to march, Fusil turned kindly 
towards the widow. 

“ My duty compels me, Madame,” he said, as if 
in extenuation of his performance of that duty. 
“Your pardon, Mademoiselle, but he must take 
his chances with the rest. There are other lovers 
here, and yours must not be favored.” 

The words seemed cold and heartless to Marie, 
and she would have fallen, had not Fusil supported 
her, as she stood between him and her mother, 
gazing towards the cottage with a steady look, her 
lips fixed, and bloodless as those of a corpse. 

The men moved onward in their steady, swing- 
ing tramp, the sergeant in advance. They were 
just turning towards the house, when the figure of 
a man coming up from the meadows was discerned, 


A WHITE RIBBON, AND A CONSCRIPT. 87 

his hands upraised towards them and motioning 
them to halt. 

“It is Pierre, mother — see!” the girl said, in 
feeble tones. “ He is not a coward ! ” 

She stood bravely erect as she spoke, and as the 
sound of Pierre’s voice rang loudly from the road- 
side, she saw the men halt, then turn, and Pierre 
came up to where the conscript line was formed, 
wanting only his presence to complete the number. 

His face was flushed with excitement, and his 
fingers clasped the handle of his carabine with a 
grip of iron. Across his shoulder was slung a 
brace of rabbits and a pheasant, the result of his 
morning’s work. He threw them upon the ground, 
almost at Marie’s feet, and laid his gun across 
them. Then, with a glance at the widow and 
Duprez, he took his station at the end of the line, 
and all was ready, as soon as the sergeant had 
made his report to Yalmeau and the men had re- 
sumed their places. 

While the silence of fear had spread itself over 
the entire assemblage, excepting the soldiers who 
took part in it and the invalid veterans to whom 
the scene was one of no novelty, the faces of the 
men wore an expression of stern resolution, and 
the eyes of the women filled with tears. Least 
anxious of all the spectators was the idiot boy, 
Franz, who was too much occupied with the gilt 
eagle on the color-staff and the bullion fringe hang- 


88 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


ing soiled and tattered from the guide-color, to 
notice the general silence. 

“ See this — it’s solid gold ! ” said the lad to Jean 
Duprez, as he held up the fringe and called loudly 
to attract his master’s attention. “ See, Marie — it’s 
pretty enough to trim your jacket with ! ” 

With a quick jerk at his coat sleeve, the boy 
was thrust aside, and he stood back of Duprez, as 
a bunch of blue and white ribbons was handed 
to Fusil. Then, after a few whispered words from 
Duprez, at which the boy seemed pleased, he ran 
back of the line of soldiers, and walked up and 
down, then halted, standing close by Pierre, and 
crowding next him in the line. He was again 
thrust aside by the sergeant, this time at the point 
of the bayonet ; he glanced almost savagely, at 
the soldier, as he felt the sharp prick of the steel, 
and passing the sleeve of his well-worn blouse 
across his eyes, went away crying, and was lost in 
the crowd of boys and women. 

The blue and white ribbons were spread out 
upon a table, counted by Valmeau, and placed 
inside a common wooden box, in the lid of which 
there was an opening just large enough to admit a 
hand. 

“ All present now, lieutenant ? ” asked the cap- 
tain, as he closed the box. 

“ All present, except Jacque La Rue.” 

“ He’s dead by this time ! ” interrupted the con- 
script who had told the story of his injured friend ; 


A WHITE RIBBON, AND A CONSCRIPT. 89 

he would have spoken again, had not the sharp 
command of “silence, conscript ! ” called him to a 
sense of duty. 

Now sounded the long roll of the drum, low at 
first, then sharp and rattling. 

One by one, as Fusil, in turn, passed it to each, 
the men placed their right hands within the box, 
felt around inside it for a moment, and drew forth 
a ribbon. 

Valmeau slowly and distinctly called each name, 
as the ribbons were drawn forth from the box, and 
in varied accents, each man answered : 

“ Tlrer ! ” 

Some looked at the ribbons as they took them, 
and smiled in expectation; and -some held then- 
hands down by their sides, standing with eyes 
directly front and lips compressed, not caring to 
see the color of their ribbon, till they should have 
learned their fate. 

The silence of the villagers was solemn -and fore- 
boding. Men who were not eligible looked upon 
the long line of peasants and on the file of soldiers, 
with earnest eyes, and some of these eyes were 
moist with tears. Mother and sister seemed to 
hush their very breathing, as the work went on. 
Some, as they saw their friends or favorites draw 
ribbons, looked on with countenances as cold and 
immovable as though of chiseled stone, while ever 
and anon a woman would bury her face in her 
hands and sob aloud, as she heard a name called, 


90 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


and saw a hand drawn from the box, holding in 
the clenched fingers a blue or a white ribbon — the 
emblem to her of a life of weary watching, or of 
hard labor in the Canton — a struggle to do the 
double work, the work which must be done to earn 
the daily bread. 

Marie could look no more upon the men or sol- 
diers. She turned sadly away, and as she stood 
by her mother’s side, with the widow’s arm lovingly 
pressed around her, the sobs which the roll of the 
drum drowned, were felt only on her mother’s 
breast. 

And so the work progressed, till all had drawn 
and the box was opened. It was held bottom 
upwards to show that none had been “ neglected ” 
in the drawing, and Fusil counted the hands 
which, holding each a ribbon, were held upward. 

“ Show your colors, conscripts ! ” 

Each hand held a ribbon, and each man held his 
breath in silence and expectation. 

“ Sergeant, forward, three paces front ! ” 

The line of soldiers which had been formed back 
of the conscripts, advanced until the word “ Halt! ” 
had been given by Fusil in a clear, ringing tone. 
Then, as the men stood still, the color sergeant 
took his station at one end of the long line, Lieu- 
tenant Yalmeau at the extreme right, and beside 
each man who held a ribbon, there stood a soldier 
in the soiled and well-worn uniform of the grand 
army. 


A WHITE RIBBON, AND A CONSCRIPT. 91 

At a signal from Fusil, the line was closed, and 
then, with the same cold tone of command, casting 
his eyes down the rank, he pronounced in slow and 
measured tones, the words : 

“ White ribbons — one pace — front ! ” 

Those bearing white ribbons— just one half the 
number of the men in line — stepped forward, and a 
shriek of despair came swelling up from the 
crowd of eager women. 

“ The white ones go with me. The blue, remain 
at home in Alsace ! Sergeant, face front ! March ! ” 

The work of the day was done, and with a cry 
of joy, Marie sprang forward, with her hands ex- 
tended towards Pierre. He was in the rear rank, 
and held in his upraised hand a piece of blue 
ribbon. 

“ Free, mother, Pierre is free ! he shall not leave 
us!” 

As she spoke in tones of gladness, even through 
her tears, Duprez, who had been watching her, 
stooped at Pierre’s feet, and picked up a piece of 
white ribbon which had been taken from the belt 
which bound his hunting jacket around him. 
Duprez said nothing. He merely picked the rib- 
bon up and handed it to Fusil. 

There was a glance of hatred in the eyes of the 
captain as he took the little piece of fluttering silk 
from Duprez’s hand. He knew full well the use 
to which the crafty ex-steward had applied the 
Hbbon that he had given him the night before, and 


92 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


lie dared not betray his agitation. He was in 
Duprez’s power, and the choice between exposure 
of his own cupidity, or the disgrace of Pierre 
Niege, was a matter of scarcely a moment’s delib- 
eration. 

Quick as the words could be spoken, the com- 
mand to halt was given. Niege was summoned 
to the front, and the white ribbon extended towards 
the astonished Pierre. 

“What does this mean, Niege? ” inquired Fusil. 
“ Monsieur Duprez is willing to make oath that you 
had a white ribbon concealed about you. This 
white one he saw tucked loosely in your belt.” 

His words were strange to Pierre, but they 
were stranger to the crafty ex-steward. The cap- 
tain had suddenly devised a plan to place the bur- 
den of the proof upon Duprez. 

“You see, captain, he was drawn for service. 
I will take the oath, if you require it,” he answered, 
glancing at the line of conscripts as if to ask their 
applause at his zeal in bringing Pierre to an account 
for the trick he had imposed upon them. 

All eyes were turned upon them, and there were 
low murmurs as he had expected, among the men, 
and loud calls for a second drawing — an experi- 
ment, by the way, which Fusil knew too well he 
must not try, especially as he had the option of it 
in his own hands. 

“I have never seen that ribbon before, captain,” 
said Niege. “ Monsieur Duprez knows that I am 


A WHITE RIBBON, AND A CONSCRIPT. 93 

no coward. Give me another trial, if you will, I 
will stand the test.” 

The voice in which the young man spoke was 
clear and steady, and the men were silent, await- 
ing Fusil’s answer. 

“Well spoken, man, and you shall have it! 
Sergeant, the box and ribbons ! ” 

The ribbons were again counted and placed in 
the box, which was closed by Yalmeau and handed 
to Fusil. 

As he took the box from the lieutenant, and 
extended it towards Niege, he turned to Marie : 

“Your lover may not be altogether lost,” he 
said; “he has another chance. Now, conscript, 
draw ! ” 

With his face averted, Pierre put his hand within 
the box. It was a moment of fearful anxiety to 
Marie and Madame Julie, and it was a moment of 
chagrin and expectation to Duprez ; his experiment 
had not succeeded yet, and he felt that the chances 
of the stake that he had played for, were hanging 
wavering in the balance. 

There was a single roll of the drum, and as 
Pierre answered in a low tone, “ Tirer, Capitalize/” 
he stood before the anxious crowd, holding in his 
right hand a piece of white ribbon. 

A quick cry of anguish from Marie was the first 
sound that fell upon the ears of the new-made con- 
script. He would have caught her in his arms, but 
he realized at once that it was useless to attempt 


94 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


it, for the crossed bayonets of two soldiers inter- 
cepted his progress; and, unable to render any 
assistance, he was forced to see her sink, fainting, 
to the ground. 

There were few words spoken. The strict laws 
of the French conscription allowed no delay. 
Once drawn for service, there was little time given 
for the last adieux. An hour only of preparation, 
and they would be marching from the Canton 
towards the camp. 

Marie was raised up tenderly by Fusil, and 
Duprez approached the fallen girl as though he 
would have held her in his arms. As he did so, 
she raised herself, and dashing aside the willing 
hands that would have assisted her, she clung to 
Fusil imploringly. 

“ Stay, captain, stay ! Pierre cannot, must not 
go from us ! He is our only hope ! ” 

“My orders are strict, Ma’amselle, and he has 
been drawn for service ! ” 

The captain would have put her away from him 
and have turned again towards his men, who had, 
under the quick order of Valmeau prepared to 
march, when the girl sprang away from him and 
stood beside her lover. 

“ He cannot, must not go ! He is my husband ! ” 

Without a word to Marie, Fusil turned towards 
the widow. 

“ Have you the proofs, Madame, of this ? ” 

But the woman was silent, and looked up into 


A WHITE RIBBON, AND A CONSCRIPT. 95 

his face in mute astonishment. Her daughter’s 
words were a shock to her, and she stood silent 
and wondering before the officer, looking at Marie 
to solve the mystery. 

“Yes, mother, Pierre is mine! ” the girl said, as 
the young hunter held her firmly to his breast, 
“by all the rites of our most holy church. I have 
the proof from Father Michel.” 

Wild with excitement, and certain of saving her 
lover, she left them and ran towards the cottage. 
It was but a short way off and they could see her 
enter the open doorway. In a moment she ap- 
peared again, and hastening to Fusil, placed a 
paper in his hand. 

“ ’Tis there, captain,” she sobbed. “ The mar- 
riage scrip from good, kind Father Michel ! ” 

It was a happy moment for Fusil. He had felt 
the duty of the soldier giving way to the generous 
impulses of the man, and he saw that Duprez had 
been foiled in his scheme at last. He had found a 
loop-hole of escape from the dilemma in which his 
breach of faith had placed him. He glanced know- 
ingly, if not patronizingly, at Duprez, as he unrolled 
the paper and looked for the contents which should 
save Pierre to Marie, and rob France of an efficient 
soldier. 

Then, with a sigh of regret, he raised Marie from 
the ground, and as Gaspard crowded near to him, 
motioned to Yalmeau, and handed the paper to 
Duprez for examination. 


96 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ This is no marriage scrip, Mademoiselle. Your 
Pierre must go with me.” 

“ No, no, captain — he cannot go ! ’Twas given 
me months ago when we were married by Father 
Michel, at the convent chapel ! ” 

She snatched the paper from Duprez, and held 
it out to him imploringly. 

“ The paper is a blank, Mademoiselle Lascour,” 
he answered, as he put her away from him — “ none 
knew of such a marriage, and the priest is — ” 

« Dead!” 

The words came with a dull, sepulchral sound 
from the lips of old Lisette, who had found her 
way through the crowd, and with Madame Lascour 
was supporting the stricken girl, who had no proof 
of marriage. Pierre would have broken away 
from the soldiers, but Fusil had foreseen the trouble 
that such an action would have caused, and had 
given the word of command to Valmeau. 

The roll of the drum again drowned the sobs of 
the women; and as Duprez, in his obsequious 
manner bent over Marie, his eyes met Madame 
Lascour’s fastened upon him with a look of intense 
hatred. 

But she was too sorrow-stricken even to inter- 
pose when he laid his hand upon Marie’s shoulder, 
and placed her sinking head upon his arm. 

Lisette, who stood near the girl, brushed him 
away with a quick movement which was almost a 


A WHITE RIBBON, AND A CONSCRIPT. 97 

blow, and supported the insensible girl in her own 
strong arms. 

“ Stand off, Duprez, Marie Lascour is not yet in 
your arms ! ” she shouted. “ I will see to her ! ” 

The scene was a wild one, and fraught with 
agony to those whose hearts were not yet steeled 
and callous to the awful interest of the drawing, 
and its consequences to the people of the Canton. 

And yet Fusil, who, while he was at heart a man 
of tender feelings, was in discipline a thorough 
soldier, gave the command to march, in a tone be- 
traying neither sympathy nor hope for those be- 
reaved. 

There was a moment only for leave-taking, and 
then, with a roll of the drum, the colors were un- 
furled, and the faces of the conscripts and the sol- 
diers were turned towards the distant mountain 
road. 

Erect in his place Pierre stood, with a face which 
he struggled to make impassive. There was an 
expression of calm resignation in his tightly com- 
pressed lips, and the kiss which he imprinted on 
the widow’s cheek was a lingering one. 

“ It is better so, my mother,” he answered, as 
she pointed to Marie. “ She will not see me go 
away from her.” 

He took from his breast a small gold chain, 
pieced with a few links of silver, and from which 
hung a small silver cross, and handed it to the 
widow. 


98 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ This will remind her of me, and I will send her 
kisses on the little cross.” 

He pressed the emblem to his lips, once, twice, 
and then a third time and placed it in the widow’s 
hand. 

She passed it to Lisette, and with a glance at the 
new-made conscript which had more of womanly- 
feeling and compassion in it than one would have 
supposed the old house-keeper capable, she clasped 
the chain around the neck of the prostrate girl, and 
turned her head away, just as the men and soldiers 
took up their line of march. 

The steady tramp of the veterans was heard in 
contrast with the uneasy, broken step of the con- 
scripts, and Franz, again equipped with the stick, 
which he carried at his shoulder as though it were 
a gun, trudged along behind them, watching the 
bright ribbons fluttering in the sunlight, with far 
more mimic pride than did the color-bearer see the 
eagles borne before him. 


THE SLIMY TRAIL OF A SERPENT. 


99 


CHAPTER IX. 

THE SLIMY TRAIL OF A SERPENT. 

As it serves our purpose best to follow, in a general 
way, the course of our story with reference to the 
general characters with which we have to deal, it 
may be well to dwell for a moment ere we proceed, 
upon events in the Canton Alsace, following the 
conscription. 

It was a heavy blow to the simple folk in the 
little mountain village, this call for men ; and the 
loss to them of the dear ones who had been com- 
pelled to follow the roll of the drum and the flut- 
tering of the pennants as Fusil and his soldiers 
marched away towards the frontier, was keenly 
felt. 

Secure in his own immunity from service, Duprez 
had reason to congratulate himself upon the success 
of his plan, which had, for a time, seemed so 
doubtful. 

The work of the conscription had been fairly 
done. The grand army had laid its stern hands 
upon its quota of soldiers, and the ex-steward was 


100 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


left in easy possession of his secret, for such it 
was, and none knew of it but the erring captain, 
Maurice Fusil. 

And, so far as Fusil was concerned, Duprez felt 
that he was safe. Men are prone to the considera- 
tion of their own interests, and he knew that the 
transaction wdiich commenced with the old port 
wine and the pheasant so nicely served by Jean- 
nette and ending in his sale or gift of the white 
ribbon to Jean Duprez, would be a dangerous dis- 
closure for him to make. 

Duprez, most clearly, held the vantage on his 
own side, and both he and the captain knew exact- 
ly their relative positions in the matter. 

The people of the Canton, too, had their own 
griefs to think about, which concerned them more 
deeply than the troubles of Madame Lascour and 
Marie. Both were favorites in the Canton, and 
the kind-hearted peasants w r ould have rendered 
them all assistance in their power, and had already 
given a fair portion of their sympathy; but 
the phantoms of grief and impending poverty were 
knocking, unbidden, at many of the cottage doors. 
The weight of sorrow fell heavily enough on all, 
and almost as soon as the conscripts had departed, 
they relapsed into their wonted steady-going ways, 
leaving the widow to the solitude and cares of her 
saddened household. 

And yet, not all of Duprez’s secret had gone to 
the war hidden in the guilty conscience of Captain 


THE SLIMY TRAIL OF A SERPENT. 


101 


Maurice Fusil. The agency of the hoy, Franz, in 
transferring the white ribbon to the belt of Pierre’s 
hunting blouse, was an innocent one, at best. The 
work which he had to do for Jean Duprez, was 
always done quietly, secretly, and without a ques- 
tion as to the motive, and in this case the boy’s 
ignorance was doubly valuable to his master. 

The lad knew well the penalty of any dis- 
obedience, and Duprez knew well the consequence 
of relaxing from the rigor of his control over the 
simple-minded changeling. He governed the boy 
by blows and menaces, and Franz found, to his 
own sorrow, that the complicity of which he was 
in the least degree suspected, had deprived him of 
the generous favors which the villagers were wont 
to bestow upon him. 

But the theft of the marriage scrip was his own 
secret. Questioned upon all matters but this one, 
he answered the queries put to him in his usual 
laughing, rambling manner, and went no farther. 
Even Jean Duprez was ignorant of the agency 
which had helped him to the knowledge of the 
secret marriage with Pierre Niege. 

Neither his threats of punishment, nor the actual 
infliction of his blows could wring from the boy an 
explanation of how he had become possessed of the 
paper, or what, if he knew, had become of it. If 
he had hidden it, he had probably forgotten where, 
it held so slight a place in his treacherous memory, 
and as the rumor of the double dealing on the day 


102 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


of the drawing grew cold by repetition, the vil- 
lagers settled down to their own sorrows, and 
Madame Lascour was alone in her affliction and 
her sometimes want. 

Here, then, Jean Duprez found his golden oppor- 
tunity. He paid an almost daily visit to the 
widow, avoided at first, by Marie, till she wearied 
of his pertinacity, and learned to suffer the infliction 
of his presence as best she might. 

Perhaps some remembrance of his old love for 
Julie Marchaud caused him to act kindly, and more 
than once since Pierre had been taken away, he 
sent her presents, and aided her in her affliction, 
taking chances, in his own way, from time to time 
to press his suit for Marie’s hand. 

Hews from the army was more eagerly looked 
for in Alsace than before the conscription. Every 
courier who came from the front was beseiged for 
news, and the words which came back from the 
men who had been torn away from them, were 
freighted with gloomy accounts of the campaign. 

And with Marie it was a weary watching for 
good news from Pierre. For a time, all that she 
learned was by an occasional mention of his name 
and his whereabouts in the scraps of letters which 
others received. 

At last there came a letter — a few words only, 
after their long watching. He had been ill, and 
for weeks had been lying in the rough hospital 
barracks, till he had been dragged away with the 


THE SLIMY TRAIL OF A SERPENT. 


103 


wounded, and assigned to a regiment which was to 
see immediate service at the front. 

Duprez himself carried the letter to the widow, 
and again urged his suit for Marie. At first, the 
only inducement he offered was a Comfortable 
home for both. In this he failed. Marie, in the 
full faith of her love for Pierre, watched for his 
return, and asserted her marriage, till it became a 
talk among the people, and they took sides with 
her. 

Each day, as the dreadful silence became more 
like the certainty of her husband’s death, she 
watched and waited for his letters, which always 
failed to come. 

At last there seemed a change in those about 
her. There were significant looks among the 
women, and some strange remarks among the men, 
till one day, at the village green, she was accused 
of a dishonest ruse to clear her lover from the 
conscription. 

Duprez asserted that she had no proof of the 
marriage ; there were no records of it in the con- 
vent chapel, and Father Michel, who alone could 
prove it, had, soon after performing the ceremony, 
fallen in the snow, and was found stiff and frozen 
by the convent dogs. 

As the war progressed, there was work enough 
for those still left in Alsace. Almost daily there 
were detachments of new men who were hurried to 
the front, and there were workshops erected by 


104 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


the army officers, for the making of supplies for 
the soldiers. The work of cutting wood soon 
ceased, the men were busy at the forges and the 
making of coats and cartridges supplied the women 
with work. 

And yet, in all the bustle of these preparations, 
they stood aloof from Marie. The story of her 
conscript lover went from neighbor to neighbor, 
and it fell in murmured accents even upon her own 
ears, from the lips of her companions. Some busy 
brain had whispered of dishonor, some of her 
old companions looked askance, and she felt that 
she was regarded by all the new comers, which the 
war had brought into Alsace, as one who had 
some secret from the world. 

She had taken her place among the women in 
their daily labor, and her pretty face, and lithe, 
elastic form and step, brought her many a compli- 
ment from the officers who were appointed to super- 
intend the work. 

At last the worst came to her, and she was 
forced to seek, in her self-imprisonment within the 
sacred Avails of her mother’s cottage, protection 
from the insults offered her, by those who lent a 
willing ear to the stories put in circulation of her 
presumed liaison with her foster-brother. 

And so, amid all his professions of friendship, 
Jean Duprez was busy at his story Celling, and 
soon he changed his tactics with Madame Lascour. 
The little assistance which she had received from 


THE SLIMY TRAIL OF A SERPENT. 


105 


him was suddenly withdrawn, and his visits to the 
cottage, which had been growing less frequent for 
some time, now ceased altogether, and his remorse- 
less agent called upon her for the payment of the 
rent due to Jean Duprez. 

It was a hard blow for the widow. She had 
had no word from Pierre, no letters had been re- 
ceived from him, and Jean Duprez had told them 
in the village that Pierre Niege had died from 
sickness and exposure in the frontier camp. 

Pouring his insidious rumors day by day into 
the ears of those about him, he sought to shake the 
widow’s confidence in the story of Marie’s marriage, 
till at last they met. 

No one knew what passed between them, except 
that they quarrelled ; the cottage was given up to 
some of the officers of the invalid corps, and the 
widow and her daughter, without a home or shel- 
ter, were dependents on the hospitality of others, 
earning a little only by their hard work, and Marie, 
weighed down by her great doubts and sorrows, 
and almost an invalid, became a burden to herself 
and to those around her. 

Almost as a forlorn hope, she waited and watched 
for each new arrival from the army, to gain some 
news of Pierre. 

Thrown in contact with the officers who came 
into Alsace, she made her inquiries with all the 
caution that she could command, and yet with the 
certainty that the story of her marriage was 


106 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


doubted by the very men of whom she sought her 
information. 

At last, the blow came to her direct. The seed 
of calumny which Duprez had sown so carefully 
took root, and it was boldly asserted that her 
story was a falsehood, and a ruse to exempt 
Pierre Niege from the conscription. There were 
harsh words, too, about her mother, whom she 
loved so fondly. The almost forgotten story of 
her residence at the castle was again revived, her 
sudden marriage with Jacque Lascour, the mys- 
terious discovery of Pierre Niege upon the road- 
side, the secret of her mother’s attempted flight 
from the castle some years before, all these had 
Duprez set afloat, and Marie felt and knew that 
her presence in the Canton was a tax upon the little 
store which they had saved. She was a dependent, 
and saw no refuge but the hated marriage with 
Duprez, which now her mother urged her to 
accept. 

It was a hard alternative to her, this marriage 
or starvation. Duprez had spread his net, and he 
pressed his advantage with all the skill which he 
could command. He even brought the news of 
Pierre’s death direct from the army, news which 
crushed the only remaining hope to which Marie had 
clung even in her deepest sorrow. Among the 
conscripts who had left the Canton, but one had 
as yet returned. A poor, worthless fellow, whom 
Duprez had once saved from starvation by giving 


THE SLIMY TRAIL OP A SERPENT. 


107 


him the work of clearing away the ruins of the 
castle. He had been sick and wounded, and the 
been discharged from service, coming back to 
Alsace a maimed and useless man, a mere relic of 
the war. He told wonderful tales of the army, of 
hard fare, and of the battles through which he had 
passed, and brought with him a scrap of paper on 
which a comrade had written down for him had 
dying words and message from Pierre Niege. 

With an eager step, Duprez carried the message 
to the widow, and begged her to break the sad 
news to her daughter. It was a hard blow for her, 
he said, but a far more severe one to Marie, and 
he was sorry for her. 

“ I have been too hard with you and with your 
daughter, Julie,” w r ere his friendly words, as he 
read the message from the paper. “You have no 
one left to hope for now, and I will fill his place 
with both.” 

Driven almost to desperation, Madame Lascour 
buried her face in her hands, and sank down at his 
feet. The worst had come at last, and she thought, 
for the time, that Duprez had lost the hard hatred 
of his lifetime towards her, and would aid her in 
her misery. 

“Yes, hard enough, Jean,” she sobbed. “And 
we are low enough indeed ! ” 

“Not so, Julie, there is a chance, I will make 
Marie my wife.” 

“And the rumor that you have set afloat, the 


108 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


scandal you have raised about us, so false, of both, 
and yet so hard, so very hard to battle against? 
and then this final blow ! it is too much to bear! ” 

As the widow struggled with her grief, she 
seemed almost imploring towards Duprez. For a 
moment, it seemed to her that all the misery of 
her life had been centred in the news which he had 
brought her, and yet, in her thoughtfulness for 
Marie, she seemed to waver at the decision which 
Duprez asked her to give. 

“Do not tell her, Jean,” at length she said. 
“Poor girl, she cannot bear it now, her heart 
would break. Let us wait awhile till she is 
stronger.” 

He raised her from her crouching position as she 
spoke, and they were alone, and silent for a time. 
Then, with a crafty offer of even a delay in the 
marriage, he asked her to promise that she would 
not oppose it, still urging the necessity, and still 
promising a contradiction of the rumors. 


A COUNCIL OF EXPEDIENCY. 


109 


CHAPTER X. 

A COUNCIL OF EXPEDIENCY. 

The two friends, the inseparable ex-servants of 
the late Marquis De Briennes, were good-humored 
on the early Spring afternoon of which we write. 
Early Spring-time it was, so far as the cycle of the 
year was concerned, but more like Winter in the 
chilling, icy air which came sweeping down the 
chimney from the mountain gorge, blowing the 
sparks about upon the hearth-stone. 

Dinner, such as it was in Duprez’s household, 
had already been finished, and Gaspard and Duprez 
were taking it easily and comfortably, with fresh- 
lighted pipes, each within easy range of the steady, 
even heat of the blazing wood fire, looking out 
upon the frozen roadway. 

There were two faces close to the narrow, sand- 
specked panes, and two pipes gave forth uneven 
wreaths of fine blue smoke, as Duprez sat watch- 
ing Gaspard, while Gaspard was lazily returning 
the compliment by watching Master Jean Duprez. 

A heavily laden army wagon drawn by six 


110 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


horses was passing their cottage door; the tired 
animals were dragging their weary limbs over the 
frosty ground, with an occasional start forward at 
a trot, as the sharp-cutting lash of the heavy 
whips was snapped about their ears or over their 
steaming flanks. A dozen or more soldiers lagged 
behind and at the sides of the wagon, as convoy 
to the contents, but they seemed to feel but little 
anxiety concerning the safety of the load of cart- 
ridges, which they were carrying to the nearest 
army depot on the frontier posts. 

Not altogether interested in the shouts of the 
drivers, or the plunging of the tired horses — for 
the road was upon a heavy rising grade, and was 
very stony— Duprez watched, with half an eye, the 
movements of old Lisette, as she put the living- 
room in order. 

He had something to say to Gaspard, it seemed, 
and perhaps Gaspard had something to say to him ; 
for they were both nervously anxious at the long 
continued presence of Lisette, as she bustled about 
the room, while Franz crouched, half asleep, on the 
wood n bench in the chimney corner. 

“ Are you nearly through, Lisette?” Duprez 
inquired. “ Be quick, for I have work to do, and 
want this room to do it in.” 

There was just the least perceptible hurry in 
Lisette’ s movements, no n.bre, as she heard Duprez’s 
command ; but she made no reply to him. 

After a moment, she roused the drowsy lad from 


A COUNCIL OF EXPEDIENCY. Ill 

his fireside day-dreams, and tossed a basket to 
him, while she tied a hood upon her head and 
wrapped her cloak about her shoulders. 

She knew Duprez’s anger at her delay, and she 
knew also that the boy would be an intruder upon 
his master’s work, and so, the two went out upon 
the chilly road together. 

“ They’re gone at last, Gaspard, and now, for 
work,” said Duprez, with a sigh of relief. 

The master of the house moved lazily away from 
the window, and trundled out from the corner of 
the room a small table, upon which was placed a 
short, iron-bound box. He moved the table 
towards the light, because the box was fastened to 
it, screwed down and bolted, for it' was the treasure- 
chest of the ex-steward, to which he only had the 
keys. 

Duprez was used to the business in hand, and so 
was Gaspard, for they had done the same work 
many times before. Gaspard was confidential 
clerk, at times. 

It was near rent-day with the landlord of 
more than half the village ; the box contained his 
title deeds and leases, and his rent-roll was to be 
prepared ; for Jean Duprez was a shrewd and 
exacting proprietor, and his leases were made at a 
rental which, paid monthly by his tenants, always 
kopt him in current funds. 

He told over the list with care, and Gaspard 
sorted out the papers, noting the arrears of each 


112 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


tenant, and the stock on hand, till they came to the 
cottage wherein Madame Julie Lascour and her 
pretty daughter had taken refuge. 

“ Never mind that one, Gaspard, I can afford to 
lose the income from that miserable house — at 
least, until the tenants change.” 

Gaspard looked up at him with a blank gaze of 
surprise, as he threw the paper aside, and then, in 
a tone of easy indifference, he asked : 

“ Why so ? They are already far behind, and it 
can be rented to the commissary at a better rate 
than they are paying.” 

“ Well, I can afford to lose it. You see, Gas- 
pard, I have a lien upon at least one of the inmates, 
as security.” 

But Gaspard did not see, and so he asked 
Duprez the reason of his leniency. 

“ Women are not chattels yet, Duprez,” he said, 
with an inquisitive smile, “ and they are not con- 
fiscated in default of rent, unless there has been 
some new law to make it so.” 

“You’re as stupid as an ass, to-day, Gaspard,” 
Duprez returned, in compliment to his companion’s 
inquiry. “ Marriage, my man, marriage. That is 
my foreclosure.” 

“ You, married — and the bride?” Gaspard 
saw that Duprez preferred to tell his own story, 
and he humored him by giving him the only cue 
he needed to begin the telling of it. 

“ Marie Lascour.” 


A COUNCIL OF EXPEDIENCY. 113 

Gaspard feigned surprise at the announcement. 

il And she consents, she has given up her con- 
script husband ? ” 

“ Given up or not, Gaspard, Marie Lascour is to 
be my wife, and that, without delay. What do 
you think of it ? ” 

“Think of it, Jean Duprez? why this,” replied 
Gaspard, with sudden warmth, walking towards 
the window and looking out. “That your plan 
has been a devilish good one, and your hand well 
played, that’s all.” 

“ My plan, as you call it, Gaspard Jarome, is 
one with which you, at least, have had nothing to 
do.” 

“ You’re welcome to all the honor of it, then, 
without my envy, Jean Duprez. But you have 
not yet seen the end of the game which you are 
playing, take my word for that.” 

“And who is to meddle with it, pray? Not 
you, my man ! ” 

There was a cool, deliberate threat in Duprez’s 
words; he gathered up the papers, locking them 
securely in his strong box upon the table, and 
then turned his attention solely towards Gaspard. 

“ This affair is mine, I tell you, and there is the 
end of it, until the girl is Madame Marie Duprez, 
and then — ” 

“ And then,” interrupted Gaspard, with a look 
of just as cool indifference as Duprez’s had been a 


114 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


burnished threat, “ you will find no easy reckoning, 
I take it.” 

“ I settle accounts with no one. I own half the 
village, and all are in fear of, or dependent upon 
me. What matters it whether the girl consents 
willingly or not ? she will be none the sweeter for 
it, and I can afford to wait her pleasure so far as 
love is concerned, or force her to it, if it comes to 
that.” 

“ It would be well for you if that was all the 
trouble; you forget that Pierre Niege — ” 

“ Tut, tut, man ! You are as foolish as an old 
maid in your fears, and as puny as a girl in your 
conjectures. The fellow is far away by this time, 
and they have no idea where he is. They believe 
the story of his death as I have told it to them, 
and the scrap which I took to Julie, with his dying 
words upon it, did the business. She took the 
story with an easy conscience and a heavy sigh. 
As for the girl, she has no proof of marriage with 
her conscript lover, and the whispers of the women 
have been loud and long about her liaison .” 

“ Yes, you have spread your net with care this 
time, Duprez, but counted your game without the 
very best of reckoning. You seem to have for- 
gotten old Lisette.” 

With his clenched fist, Duprez struck the table, 
throwing the heavy tumblers which stood upon it 
down upon the wide-tiled hearth. It was an in- 
cautious movement, and an unwonted one for him, 


A COUNCIL OF EXPEDIENCY. 


115 


he who was generally as calm and collected in 
danger as in an ordinary conversation, and Gas- 
pard’s cold, grey eye lighted up with a peculiar 
brilliancy as he saw that the shaft he had sent at 
random had struck home so nicely. 

“ Lisette ? ” replied Duprez, quickly. 

“Yes, Duprez, Lisette! she once loved you, my 
man, and the spurned love of such a woman may 
breed evil in her, if a rival crosses her path. Take 
my word for it, she means mischief.” 

Perhaps not quite so finished in the execution of 
his plans, Gaspard was as crafty as Duprez. He 
saw in the present mood of hi3 companion a chance 
to work his own revenge. He felt, for a moment, 
that he was courting trouble ; yet the keen, deep, 
unfailing hatred that he felt for the woman, Lisette, 
and the unpleasant remembrances of the struggle 
he had had with her, were fresh in his incon- 
veniently retentive memory. 

“Well, she knows nothing. You and I share 
our secrets with no one ; and as to this marriage 
with Marie Lascour, my plans as you say, have 
been well laid, and now at last she will be mine.” 

“ And when do you propose this marriage ? is it 
not sudden ? Does Julie consent to it ? ” 

“Julie? she dare not refuse; I would crush her 
and drive her daughter from the Canton, with the 
story of her conscript lover branded on her fore- 
head in calumny too deep to be effaced. Mark 
me well, Gaspard, I mean it ! ” 


116 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“Then you had better be quick about it. What 
do you settle on her as the price of marriage ? ” 

“This.” 

Duprez tossed a paper across the table. It was 
the deed of a portion of the confiscated estate, 
which carried with it the rents and issues of a 
score of cottages. 

“ You pay a good price it seems, for your pretty, 
black-eyed luxuries ! Are these the free estates, 
or are they the lands which are disputed in the 
title?” 

Gaspard knew enough of Duprez’s affairs to feel 
certain that he would make no gift such as the 
deeds conveyed, unless there was some trickery in 
the conveyance. 

“ Better than that, Gaspard, she shall have the 
title from the Marquis De Briennes; the rightful 
heirs are gone, and the property reverts to the 
empire, in the death of the twin boys.” 

“ But was there not a release of the confiscation 
edict somewhere in the old man’s papers ? ” 

“ Yes, but the fire in the wing of the old castle 
reduces that pretty piece of seals and parchment 
to a heap of ashes. Once mine, the property can 
soon be reclaimed, and as for Marie, when she 
becomes my wife, her conscript husband may re- 
turn if he sees fit, and we will dispute possession 
of the woman and the lands as best we may.” 

These two men were too much interested in this 
double plot to give much attention to events pass- 


A COUNCIL OF EXPEDIENCY. 


m 


ing without, and they had not noticed the eyes of 
the old housekeeper, peering in at them through the 
window, as she stopped before entering the cottage 
door. 

“ To-night, then, Gaspard, we will complete the 
work,” continued Duprez, pacing nervously up 
and down the room. “I will have the contract 
drawn, and you shall witness it.” 

A look from his companion silenced him. Gas- 
pard had seen the shadow across the window, and 
as Lisette came slowly in upon them, two pipes 
had been relighted, and two men were engaged in 
smoking. 


118 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XI. 

POLLED. 

Madame Julie Lascour was waiting for visitors. 
She was alone in her cheerless living room, sitting 
in the light of the fire only, watching for Jean 
Duprez, counting the hours till the time should come 
when the hard terms of the ex-steward should be 
enforced, and the contract made that bound Marie 
to wed her mother’s former lover, the man who 
was now her wary and designing persecutor. 

The stern hand of necessity had been placed 
upon her fortunes, and the worst had come to her, 
but not the worst to the child, who, crouched upon 
her lonely bed, was sobbing in the chilly chamber 
above. 

Madame Lascour had broken the news to Marie, 
and, desperate at first in her arguments against 
the hated marriage, Marie had finally consented to 
the sacrifice. There was, to her, but one alterna- 
tive ; and, were it not for her lingering hopes of 
Pierre’s return, death, which alone could save her, 
would have been gladly sought. 


FOILED. 


119 


By the civil laws of France, the child was little 
more than a chattel in the parent’s hands or will. 
The contract for the marriage which Duprez had 
urged, would bind the daughter, and the pressure 
brought against Madame Lascour was alike desper- 
ate in its conception and unyielding in its enforce- 
ment. 

“ Oh, Pierre, my Pierre,” Marie sobbed, as she 
sank down upon the floor, and gazed out into the 
darkness, from her chamber window. “ Will you 
never come to save me from this man ? ” 

The low moaning of the wind was all her answer, 
and she sobbed aloud in her agony. 

“ There was a quick knock upon the cottage 
door, and a shuffling of feet upon the narrow steps 
below her. Her unwelcome suitor was punctual, 
and she heard the door creak upon its hinges, and 
then shut, heard, it seemed to her, in the sound of 
the closing door, the knell of all her happiness. 

The plotters were at work, and her poor, weak- 
minded mother would not fail to prove an easy 
victim to their plans and promises. 

It seemed to Marie that the fearful work could 
be prevented, yet she could stir neither hand nor 
limb, nor raise even her feeble voice to prevent 
the consummation of the crime. 

As she listened, there came up from between the 
cracks in the bare floor of her little room, the 
mellow light of the candles which had been lighted 
in the room beneath her, and she crouched down 


120 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


upon the floor to listen, just where the light came 
shining through. 

She could hear Duprez as he pressed his claim 
for her, and told again the story brought from the 
battle fields, of Pierre’s untimely death ; and then, 
she heard her mother sobbing in her grief. 

“ A little while only, Jean, I beg you. If there 
be no other chance, Marie shall be your wife ; but 
give me a few weeks longer, Pierre may not be 
dead, he may come back to claim my child.” 

“ And if he does, what proof have either of them 
of a legal marriage? You never consented to 
it, and by the laws of France, if you oppose it, no 
secret marriage can be held binding. I tell you, 
Julie, that the boy is dead. Gaspard heard the 
story as I did, and the proof I gave you — ” 

Well up in the part assigned to him, Gaspard 
took up the story with a narrowness of detail 
which even Duprez failed to give him credit for ; 
each item of the history was rehearsed, even to 
the lingering death of the conscript in the German 
fortress, and his dying message to Marie. 

And so in her chilly room, the girl heard the 
rustling of the parchment, and the contract was 
handed to Madame Lascour to sign. 

She could listen no longer. Anything, it seemed 
to her, any fate or any sacrifice, were better than 
this union with Duprez, and she leaned her head 
upon the window and closed her eyes in fear and 
trembling. 


FOILED. 


121 


As she pressed her face upon the cold glass, it 
seemed to give her some relief, and then, as she 
stood in silence, shivering at times, she looked 
down upon the road, a few feet below her, and 
tried to pierce the darkness with her earnest gaze. 

She thought, once, that she could see shadowy 
forms upon the ground beneath her. But they 
went away again, and she pressed her forehead 
down upon her hands, and raised the sash, that the 
cold air might blow in upon her heated face and 
cool her throbbing temples. 

She could detect no sound from those at work 
below, and yet, as she listened, she fancied she 
heard low whispers somewhere in the room, and 
she turned, in very fear that they had come to 
force her to the signing of the hated contract 
which should break her oath to Pierre Neige, and 
barter her soul’s peace for what was little more 
than a respite from Duprez’s severity. 

But no one was there, and all that she 
could see was the streak of yellow light upon the 
wall, reflected through the crevices in the well- 
worn floor. 

As she leaned out upon the window-sill, some- 
thing fell across her face, and seemed to wind itself 
about her neck. 

She started with a muffled cry, and placed her 
hand upon it. It was a rope, thrown towards the 
window by some one below, and looking down she 


122 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


could now see the shadow of a light, willowy form 
moving in the darkness. 

She caught the rope in her hands and held it 
fast. As she did so, she could see it move, and 
then, in the dim light which shone out upon the 
road from the partly opened window of the room 
below, she saw the lithe form of Franz peering in 
upon the scene, his body close to the side of 
the house, and holding the rope in his attenuated 
fingers. 

He paused but a moment, and then she felt the 
rope pulled gently and heard some one calling to 
her from below. 

“ Marie — Marie — Marie Lascour ! ” The boy 
gave a low, peculiar whistle, so low that it was 
lost in the sound of the wind sweeping around the 
corner of the house, and so she listened, but dared 
not reply. 

Then, there was a sudden thud upon the window- 
sill, and a grating sound as of some sharp instru- 
ment gnawing its way into the decaying wood-work, 
and as she watched and listened, there was a 
rubbing against the house, followed by the appear- 
ance of the idiot’s moppy head, just above the 
window-sill. 

“Marie Lascour! Marie! It’s only me — I’m 
Franz ! Come here ! ” 

She grasped the boy by the shoulders and helped 
him up, till he sat in the open window, with one 


FOILED. 


123 


leg dangling without, as he drew the rope up after 
him, and climbed within the room. 

“ I want you, Marie, and you must come with 
me.” 

“ Want me? for what? I will not go.” 

She spoke in a low whisper, and the boy 
answered her in the same tone, as he commenced 
tying the rope into knots a few inches apart. 

“ There, I’ll make it bear you safely,” he said, as 
he dropped the knotted end upon the ground. “ I 
climbed up by it, but it mightn’t hold you with- 
out this.” 

As he spoke, he fastened the sharp hook of an 
Alpine hunting staff upon the window-sill, driving 
the keen pointed spear far down into the wood. 
To this he attached the end of the rope, and pull- 
ing it through until the knots were close to the 
window, he dropped the end upon the ground, and 
waited for Marie to go. 

“ They want you, Marie, but you cannot go with 
them. Master Jean don’t love me much, and I 
don’t love him, and so I’m going to steal you away 
from him, and from Madame Julie, too. See, 
Marie, it is easy to get down, 1 could almost jump 
it, in the daytime ! ” 

He pointed out into the darkness as he spoke, 
and tried to force her through the window. But 
she would not consent to go, and questioned him 
in whispers why he came, and what he meant to 
do. 


124 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


But the boy was silent, annoyed, it seemed, at 
her reluctance, and only motioned that she must 
go with him. 

There was a sound of loud and angry voices 
coming up through the cracks in the floor, and she 
saw from the streaks of light that there were figures 
moving rapidly below them, in the room where 
her mother sat with Jean Duprez. 

And now it seemed to her in her fear and agony, 
that she had found a loophole of escape. There 
was no time for question or delay, nor could she 
gain from Franz any explanation of the motive 
which had sent him on his errand, nor what he 
wanted her to do, except to leave the cottage. 

“ The rope is safe, Marie, and strong enough for 
two of us. Come, I will help you.” 

Instinctively she allowed the boy to wind his 
sinewy arms about her, and blindly she followed 
his instructions. The knots he had made in the 
rope would help her in the descent, and she knew 
that it was but a few feet to the ground ; the hunt- 
ing staff was firmly fastened to the narrow sill, and 
the rope was wound about the iron. 

“ Quick, quick ; I hear them coming. Do be 
quick ! ” 

The lad left her side a second, crouched down 
upon the floor, and listened; then, still more 
anxiously, he helped her through the window, and 
passed the ropes over her shoulders and about her 
waist. 


FOILED. 


125 


“Now, Marie, follow me, and keep good hold 
upon the knots ! I’ll take the smooth side for 
myself. Hold tight, and I will catch you if you 
fall.” 

^The tone in which the lad spoke reassured her, 
and she allowed him to go first through the win- 
dow, and then, as he clung to the rope with one 
hand, she swung down from the knotted side and 
hung below him upon their frail ladder. 

Hand over hand she descended, the knots placed 
at their convenient distances, easing her descent. 

As she neared the ground, she felt herself 
grasped by a cold, clammy hand, and a face was 
pressed close to her ear. 

She would have screamed with fright, but a 
strong arm held her, and the voice of old Lisette 
speaking close to her face, told her she had nothing 
to fear. 

“ Quietly, child, for your life, and mine,” the 
woman whispered ; “ why, you are shivering ! ” 

She threw about the girl’s shoulders her own 
heavy cloak, and kissed the trembling fugitive. 

“ Trust me, my child, trust me, I say, but as you 
value life, be silent.” 

She helped Franz lightly down, and together, 
they pulled the rope down from the hooked end of 
the Alpine staff, jerking the iron loose from the 
sill of the window just above them. 

They were close to the house now, and could see 
the shadows of those within the room ; Duprez sat 


126 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


at the table, and Madame Lascour was signing the 
marriage contract. 

Then, with his face turned towards them, taking 
the pen in his clumsy fingers, they saw the signa- 
ture of Gaspard Jarome placed upon the contract 
as a witness, and a sealed pacquet was handed to 
the widow. 

“Good God,” the girl murmured, “my poor, 
poor mother, has it come to this ? ” 

She leaned tremblingly upon Lisette’s arm ; the 
hand which the woman placed upon her own was 
cold and hard, yet it gave a gentle and loving 
pressure as Marie looked up into Lisette’s face. 

In the light from the window she could see the 
stern features of the woman who supported 
her; they were wreathed in a smile as deep and 
intriguing as those of Jean Duprez, who sat within, 
holding the parchment up to the flickering flame 
of the candle, to dry the ink upon the several 
signatures. 

For a moment Lisette looked in upon them, then 
suddenly, with almost a man’s strength, she caught 
the frightened girl in her arms, and forced her 
back against the house. 

Gaspard was coming towards the window, light 
in hand. He held the candle against the pane, 
then, putting it back of him, he peered without. 

“They have heard us, Marie, and our lives in- 
deed depend upon this night’s work. Come, Franz, 
the staff! ” 


FOILED. 


127 


Lisette snatched the stout stick from the boy’s 
hand, and placing the pointed and barbed end 
upon the ground, gave it to Marie. 

“ Quick, girl, your best pace now, for they are 
coming ! ” 

She guided Marie down the dark and stony road, 
looking back now and then, towards the cottage. 
For a time they could see the lights moving hither 
and thither, and then suddenly all was dark. After 
a moment lights appeared in the vacant chamber 
which Marie had so lately quitted, and the fugitives 
could hear the voices of the two men in hurried 
converse, as they discovered its emptiness. Soon 
one of them appeared at the open window with a 
light, and as he waved it to and fro above his head, 
the hard features of Gaspard Jarome looked almost 
ghostly in the flickering light of the, half-burned 
taper. 

“ Crouch low, Marie, way down, my girl, close 
to the stone edge of the broken wall. They shall 
not take you to him while I live ! ” 

There was a scream, one long and agonizing 
scream, heard from the cottage, and then a heavy 
fall upon the floor. 

“ My mother, my poor, poor mother ! I cannot 
leave her so, Lisette, I must go back ! ” 

Marie turned sharply towards the edge of the 
road, and broke away from Lisette, just as the rays 
from a masked lantern held by some one in the 
window, fell full upon the side of the cottage. 


128 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


But the hard hand of the woman held her again, 
close down to the ground. 

Slowly the light moved along the base of the low 
wall, and slowly, yet surely, a dark figure traveled 
in advance of it, then, with a sudden change in its 
course, the light swept farther out into the road, 
and the sharp, ringing report of a pistol shot broke 
upon the still night air, while the smoke from the 
discharged weapon wreathed back into the open 
window. 

“Too late this time, my crafty lord. You 
reckoned without your host, to-day ! Come, child ; 
for the sake of your dead husband, come with me ! ” 

Lisette threw, her arms about Marie, who seemed 
too horror stricken to move on with her. The girl 
stood motionless as a statue, pointing towards the 
open window, with her eyes fixed upon the face 
which shone beside the light, with a Satanic lustre 
in the nervous eyes. 

But Lisette forced her to move onward, feeling 
her way over the rough roadway with the staff, 
and in a low tone calling to Franz to follow her, as 
she reached her hand out to assist him. 

But he did not answer ; there was a faint moan 
only, then a heavy groan, as she sank down behind 
a mound of broken stones which had stopped the 
course of one of the Winter streams, and turned it 
towards the valley below them, just as the rays of 
light came streaming from the open door of Madame 
Lascour’s dwelling, and almost reached them. 


PRIVATE PIERRE NIEGE. 


129 


CHAPTER XII. 

PRIVATE PIERRE NIEGE. 

The grand army of Napoleon was lying crippled 
and unnerved, in the narrow compass of the Prus- 
sian territory, between the borders of the Baltic and 
the slow waters of the lazy Vistula. 

There had been hard and determined fighting. 
Napoleon would acknowledge no defeat, and yet he 
had felt in their severest infliction the memorable 
events which were crowded into the gloomy 8th of 
February, 1807. 

At the dawn of day, bugles had sounded for ac- 
tion along the lines of the French encampment, and 
the Emperor had chosen to renew the struggle of 
the day before. 

And so even in a snow storm he threw his mettled 
columns upon the lances of the intrepid Cossacks, 
and hazarded his army’s safety upon his chosen field 
of Preuss-Eylau. 

Davoust, pressing forward with all the fiery, and 
sometimes ill-timed impetuosity which made him 
a favorite with the Emperor, had been driven back 


130 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


upon the main body by the fragment of the Prussian 
guards, who had fought so bravely against his ser- 
ried lines at Jena. 

Ney, scenting the air of battle from his stand up- 
on the rugged highway to Konigsberg, came troop- 
ing down to his rescue, but without avail, and Na- 
poleon, having at last found an equal, had left a 
dozen or more of his saucy French eagles in the 
hands of the Russian general Benningsen, and had 
acknowledged this conflict to be at least a drawn 
battle, if not a temporary and disastrous check. 

Worn out and weakened from the loss of munitions 
of war, robbed in a closely contested fight of more 
than fourteen hours’ duration, of twenty-four thous- 
and picked soldiers, while struggling with desperate 
recklessness, to drive the allied masses back from 
their position, clinging to his destiny, and casting 
his gauntlet into the very face of fate, far into the 
night, the man who seemed to hold the destinies of 
France in the palm of his hand, was lying at bay 
with the rear of his army towards the fortified 
towns upon the Baltic, and keeping the banks of 
the Vistula well in view as a place of saftay for 
his shattered forces. 

There had been hot work for the new regiments, 
and Captain Maurice Fusil had, perhaps unwilling- 
ly, been somewhat relieved from the tiresome duty 
of the recruiting service in the fire and smoke of 
battle at the front. 

“ A rough night for outpost duty, this, lieuten- 


PRIVATE PIERRE NIEGE. 131 

ant ! ” exclaimed the captain, with a shiver, as he 
came rolling in from behind the line of shelter 
tents, and warmed his hands by the blaze of the 
bivouac fire, “ what news ? ” 

There was a narrow circle around the ruddy 
blaze, and as the light from the crackling flames 
cast its reflection on the faces of the men, there 
w r ere tired and haggard countenances bent in silence 
upon the phantom-pictures forming themselves 
upon the changing mass of crimson coals. 

There was no answer from Valmeau, and the 
ominous silence of the subalterns presaged some 
gloomy import to any intelligence that might have 
reached them. 

“What news, you are asking, captain?” said the 
color sergeant, rising from the fire and making a 
place for Fusil, “bad news enough.” 

“ How so ? another sortie ? ” 

“No, my captain, worse than that, — retreat. 
They say the Prussians will accept no terms, and 
the long-coated Russians like this fighting in the 
snow, so we are to turn our backs upon them and 
begin ice-cutting on the Vistula.” 

“Francois is right, captain,” said Valmeau, as 
he roused himself, “ already the orders are out for 
the retreat, and the Emperor has been through all 
the lines to-day.” 

While they w^ere talking, the low roll of the 
drum sounded on the frosty air. Again and again 
it broke forth, and then settled down into the low 


132 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


rumble of the steady roll, as it swept, like the 
reverberations of a distant storm, from regiment 
to regiment, and away ofi* in the distance towards 
the extreme left of the encampment. 

“That means work, lieutenant,” said Fusil, as 
he drew his cloak about his shoulders, and passed 
into his tent, “ it means an early march to-morrow.” 

He had scarcely reached the welcome shelter of 
the marquee, when the steady, swinging gallop of 
a horse was heard, and a mounted orderly dashed 
up to the fire, and hailed the group of expectant 
soldiers. 

“Captain Fusil,” he said, as he dismounted, and 
held his reeking beast by the bridle, “ this from 
the general, and I wait the answer.” As he spoke 
he took a sealed pacquet from his belt. 

The sound of the horse’s hoofs had recalled Fusil 
to the fire, and stooping down close to the blaze, 
he read the contents of the dispatch. 

“In one hour, tell the general,” was all the 
answer that he made, as he ran his eye over the 
order, folded it up, and placed it in his bosom. 

The orderly sprang to his saddle and galloped 
away. There were curious looks among the men, 
but Fusil paid them no attention; he nodded to 
Yalmeau, and together, they went inside the tent, 
and lighted candles. 

“ The Emperor is cautious,” said Fusil, closing 
the entrance to the marquee, “ and in one hour I 
am to be at head-quarters. There is some secret 


PRIVATE PIERRE NIEGE. 


133 


service to be done, and I am to name two men 
from my company to perform it. We begin retreat 
by daylight, and one regiment is to hold the camp 
while the light of the line is being wheeled towards 
the front. Our backs will be turned upon the 
Baltic before to-morrow’s sunset, and whatever the 
Emperor may intend hereafter, at present, Valmeau, 
it means retreat. Hark ! there is the call, and I 
must answer it, and hurry back again ! ” 

There was. a sharp rattle of the drum for the 
moment, then it died away. The quick orders were 
given, and, one by one, the lazy regiments began 
their preparations to break camp. Even in the 
night, the army was alive in its preparations for 
an early march, for Napoleon’s movements were 
always secret, and imperatively quick. 

It was nothing new to the veterans ; the pan- 
orama of their army life had many changes, and 
as they repacked their well-worn knapsacks and 
began the preparations for their long tramp from 
the arena of the hard-fought battle, they merely 
mused upon the events of the closing scenes of the 
campaign and put their confidence in the great 
man who had, for the first time, found his equal, 
and confessed defeat by his movements, if not in 
the heart which he turned towards his army and 
his generals. 

As Fusil threaded his way towards the division 
head-quarters, among the men who were working 
like bees in the light of the camp fires, he wen- 


134 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


dered what the mission could be, for which some 
daring spirit Avas desired, and as he returned the 
salutation of the soldier on guard before the gen- 
eral’s tent, he felt that it was rather more than an 
empty honor to be allowed to name the man. 

The interview was a short one. Among the 
mass of papers, maps, and diagrams strewn upon 
the small camp table before him, Marshal Davoust 
held in his hand a message from the Emperor, 
which he laid aside as the orderly announced the 
coming of the officer to whom his peremptory 
order had been sent. 

“ Captain Fusil ? ” he asked, as he turned towards 
his visitor. 

“The same, marshal, and at your service. You 
desired me to come alone, and I have done so.” 

“Enough. We are retreating towards the 
river; a feint, it may be, but that matters not. 
The Emperor has been misinformed, and the towns 
in our rear are strongly fortified. Where was 
your regiment recruited ? ” 

“ Mostly in the Canton Alsace, marshal, though 
there are few of my new men left.” 

“ In Alsace ? Then you have some stout-hearted 
fellows with you, captain,” replied Davoust, un- 
heeding Fusil’s remark. “They are a handy set, 
and if reports be true, your conscript levy there 
brought you some good and daring soldiers.” 

“ The proof is in the record of the regiment at 


PRIVATE PIERRE NIEGE. 


135 


Preuss-Eylau,” returned F usil, with warmth. “ Per- 
haps the marshal may remember it ? ” 

“ Your men destroyed the bridge between us 
and the Russian advance guard, I think, upon the 
second taking of the town ? ” 

“My company had the honor and the loss of 
that exploit.” 

“ Therefore, I mean that you shall send me a true 
and daring man to go to Dantzic. He must be a 
man whom you know well, captain, and one who 
is no coward. Have you an officer whom you can 
spare ? Y our colonel suggests Lieutenant Yalmeau, 
and I have sent for him.” 

Fusil started, as the marshal mentioned Lis 
lieutenant’s name. It seemed so strange to him 
that, above all others, Yalmeau should have been 
named for secret service. He was no favorite 
with their colonel, and the errand on which he 
would be sent was one of danger and responsibility. 
Still, he could at least await his coming, and learn 
the nature of the work in hand, since no choice of 
men had been allowed to him. 

The particulars of the plan were soon made 
known. They were simply the detailing of an 
officer from Fusil’s regiment to go to Dantzic and 
gain information for the Emperor, nothing more ; 
and the soldier who should undertake the mission 
would be allowed to choose his own means, and 
his own companion. 

While they were talking, and in the midst of 


136 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


the orders which Davoust was giving, almost with 
magic speed, so quickly was his busy mind suggest- 
ing and issuing commands to the officers about 
him, Valmeau was announced. 

A smile of satisfaction passed over his face, as he 
saw Fusil, and his salutation was a cold one. He 
had long envied Fusil the captaincy, but had con- 
cealed his envy from the men, and now he saw 
promotion looming up, perhaps an epaulette with 
deeper fringe upon it than the one which glistened 
from beneath the heavy cloak which Fusil wore 
wrapped about his shoulders. 

“ You are detailed, lieutenant, to go to Dantzic. 
There are your orders, sealed, and you must set 
out by daylight. You may take but one man 
with you; name him, and I will send the order 
that he may be detailed for the service.” 

“The color sergeant, Francois Bertrand,” sug- 
gested Fusil. “You know him well, lieutenant, 
and he is good at a disguise. Besides, he knows 
the country all along the Baltic, so he says.” 

“Hone better for the purpose, then, I think,” 
replied Davoust. “ What say you, lieutenant, shall 
I detail Bertrand to go with you ? ” 

“ I name another man, marshal, if the choice be 
mine.” 

“ So reads the order, and on this especial ser- 
vice, no one can choose your comrade but your- 
self.” 

Fusil’s ready tact and love of discipline enabled 


PRIVATE PIERRE NIEGE. 


137 


liim to conceal his mortification at the rebuff he 
had received, but the soldier felt keenly the posi- 
tion in which he stood before the stern-browed 
marshal. 

Throughout the whole campaign, from the time 
that he had been placed in active service with his con- 
script company, he had stood well with his colonel, 
and in the circumstances connected with the mission 
of the spy to Dantzic, he saw almost a direct insult 
to his dignity. 

The latent suspicion which he had sometimes 
had, of Yalmeau’s feelings towards him, was now con- 
firmed, but he felt that he must accept the present 
issue, so he gracefully retired from the table, leav- 
ing Valmeau and Davoust to make their choice 
without his interference or suggestion. 

Still he apprehended some secret purpose in 
Yalmeau’s refusal to accept Bertrand, and the 
captain felt uneasy at the conduct of his lieutenant. 
He had never fully trusted him ; they had no con- 
fidence in each other, at least they had not been 
firm friends since the conscription in the Canton 
Alsace, for they had quarrelled on account of 
Pierre, and had differed widely in their credence of 
the story of Marie’s relation towards the conscript. 
So Fusil awaited the decision in respectful silence. 

With a look at his captain which betrayed some 
subtle object in the choice, which, taking advantage 
of the circumstances, he had insisted upon his 
right to make, Yalmeau advanced to the table, 


138 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


and wrote a name upon a slip of paper, which he 
handed to Davoust. 

With a keen sense of discipline and honor, the 
marshal saw at once that there was some disagree- 
ment between the men before him. The sugges- 
tion of the color sergeant’s name made by Fusil, 
apparently with sole reference to his fitness for 
the mission, had met with so sudden and peremptory 
a refusal at the hands of the lieutenant, that the 
reason for his non-compliance with the captain’s 
wishes became a mystery. 

“You desire this man for reasons of your own, 
important to yourself alone, and you can trust him 
fully?” asked Davoust, still hesitating before he 
filled the name in the order he had written. 

“I want no other man than the one I have 
named, marshal, if I am to undertake the journey 
as a spy to Dantzic.” 

“And by the orders you are entitled to the 
choice. You have it, and the name to be inserted 
in the order then, is — ” he held the paper to the 
light, as though he had been careless in reading 
it, but the action was meant more particularly 
for Fusil, who had been watching him. 

Then, as he threw the slip of’ paper down again, 
he read from the order which he had filled out, in 
his clear, cold, ringing tones, and with a searching 
look at the captain and his lieutenant, the name 
of the man selected : 

“ Private Pierre Niege.” 


ON THE ROAD TO DANTZIC. 


139 


CHAPTER XIII. 

ON THE ROAD TO DANTZIC. 

A motley horde of soldiers, stragglers, and peas- 
ants were crowding the post-road just beyond the 
town of Preuss-Eylau, which, like a mantle, had 
been ripped and torn from edge to edge by the 
ruthless blade of war. 

The least decisive and one of the hardest fought 
battles of Napoleon’s campaign in Poland had 
been waged in the town and just without its limits, 
and the ground was strewn with the debris of the 
great struggle. 

Twice the beleaguered town had fallen from the 
allied forces, and the tattered banner of Havoust’s 
division, followed by the silken flags of the Em- 
peror’s own escort, had waved up and down its 
cluttered streets as they pressed the Russians back, 
and forced them over the bridges spanning the 
narrow stream upon the northern borders of the 
village. 

And then, thundering down upon the devoted 
town, over the bridges, over the ice upon the 


140 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


river, and struggling up the rugged shore, came 
the Cossack lancers of PlatolFs division, driving 
the French from their position, and throwing fire 
brands into the open doors of the houses. 

The game which Napoleon had been playing, 
the great stake which he had hazarded in his com- 
paign, both seemed to be lost, and as the snow of 
the scarcely broken Winter fell upon Preuss-Eylau, 
it fell upon the two armies lying on their arms, 
panting for breath after the awful carnage of the 
conflict. Napoleon held possession of the town, 
and that was all ; he confessed this to be a drawn 
battle, and he had paid a very heavy price for 
being master of just one half the situation. 

Night after night, as the fortnight following the 
battle wore on, there had been unbroken silence in 
the open space lying between the two armies, and 
from either side, the one encamped almost in a 
semi-circle, and the other in a long, unbroken line, 
there gleamed the light of the thousand camp fires 
shooting their sparks upward among the falling 
snow-flakes, which covered the dead and shrouded 
the dying in their soft and downy vestures. 

The fiercest struggle of the day had been at the 
bridge which commanded the northern entrance to 
the town. Here it was that the flying squadron of 
Platoff came thrusting itself upon the bayonets of 
Davoust’s division, and whirling their chargers into 
the murderous fire pounced upon them ; here too, 
their heavy axes like playthings in their brawny 


ON THE ROAD TO DANTZIC. 


141 


arms, the Alsace regiment had hewn down the 
bridge, and bent low upon the ground as Davoust’s 
soldiers fired above their heads, and scanned the 
faces of the Russians in the flash from their own suns. 

Such had been the chance of war and such the 
disaster to Napoleon, that he had, in this his direst 
emergency, proposed terms of peace to Frederick 
William, such terms as Napoleon had the nerve to 
offer, even in the period of his own distress, — a sep- 
arate peace, which should destroy his alliance with 
the Russian emperor. 

Quartered at Konigsburg, when Benningsen was 
sending forth his well-mounted Cossacks, foraging 
the country without even molestation from the 
French, the King of Prussia declined the proffered 
terms of pea ce, and was massing his strength for a 
renewal of the battle. 

At this juncture, on the nineteenth of February, 
Napoleon turned his back upon the Baltic, and 
pressed forward to the banks of the Vistula, leaving 
Dantzic and other strongly fortified towns, holding 
out in stern defence upon his rear. 

And so it came, that, in the early morning of 
the twentieth of the month, the Prussian generals 
and the Russian staff were watching through their 
glasses the retreating French, and the people were 
rebuilding the bridge leading into Preuss-Eylau 
which Fusil and his men had cut away two weeks 
before. 

The strong arms of the peasants were swinging 


142 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


their axes, the soldiers were carrying planks and 
working at the bridge, while the women and chil- 
dren who had been fugitives from their now ruined 
homes, were watching them. 

The veterans who had held Davoust in check, 
and stood so gallantly his murderous fire, saw the 
retreating army passing out and away from the 
town, with no regret, for the loss had been fearful, 
and fifty thousand men, full half the number, 
French, had been the price of the contest in the 
narrow compass of their contracted lines about tfie 
town. 

As the work of rebuilding the bridge progressed, 
and the peasants and soldiers crossed the river on 
the narrow ice-gorge which had formed above it, 
the last of the retreating army wound down the 
roadway, their rear covered by a strong detach- 
ment of Ney’s veterans, and the Prussians gathered 
about the ruined town. 

As they did so, the smoke came whirling into 
their faces from a fire which had broken out in a 
building near the centre of the town, and they 
rushed in a confused mass to tear it down, fearing 
lest the French, in their retreat, should have de- 
termined to leave a record of fire behind them. 

But men were at work before them, and work- 
ing with a will. Armed with an axe, which he 
swung with heavy blows, and each time with effect, 
a man in the coarse garments of a Polish laborer, 
stood upon the roof, and was cutting his way down 


ON" THE ROAD TO DANTZIC. 143 

to the fire, calling to them in words of mingled 
French and German patois to mount to his side 
and help him. 

He worked well, and kept his place upon the 
slanting, slippery roof, like one used to climbing 
and holding fast, and swung his axe with steady 
and determined blows, each time cutting closer 
towards the fire, till the smoke burst forth into his 
very face, and he staggered back upon the chimney. 

There were willing hands below him, and in a 
few moments half a dozen peasants and some sol- 
diers had reached the daring man, and they were 
passing water to the workers, and cutting away 
down towards the fire. 

He seemed directing them by his motions, as he 
stood in the smoke which rose about him, and in 
obedience to his commands, they broke into the 
house and crowded into the smoky rooms and up 
the narrow stairway towards one of the chambers, 
which the fire had not yet reached, to find a man 
in the uniform of a Prussian soldier lying crouched 
upon the floor. 

He had struggled towards the window, which 
was his only means of escape, for they had battered 
down the door of the room to reach him, and as 
they bore him down the stairs and out into the 
clear, cold air, he pointed towards the hospital 
where the wounded French and some few pris- 
oners were left, and where the smoke was be- 
ginning to rise in narrow circles. 


144 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


He seemed to know well where to lead them, for 
he went directly to the fire, it seemed, just where 
the flames were breaking out from one of the lower 
windows. 

It was soon extinguished, and they ransacked 
the building only to find a dozen or more wounded 
soldiers, the remains of a half eaten meal spread 
upon a table, and a few bottles of sour wine lying 
in confusion upon the floor. 

The strange soldier seemed at home among the 
peasants ; he had been a prisoner, he said, accused 
of being a spy in the French camp, and had been 
confined in the room in which they found him, 
awaiting his speedy trial and still more speedy 
execution at the hands of Marshal Davoust, when 
the order had been issued to retreat, and prisoners 
and wounded had been left to their fate, while the 
fires kindled by the revengeful enemy had broken 
out in Preuss-Eylau. 

His comrade, a peasant from the Konigsberg 
district, had been confined with him, but had 
forced his way from his prison room, cutting his way 
with his axe, aud so they had found him fighting 
fire, as they came back into the town, while the 
enemy whom they had almost conquered was mak- 
ing forced and rapid marches toward the river. 

He knew the plans of the French, he said, and 
he and his companion told them all about the 
struggle at the bridge, and where the headquarters 
of the marshal had been taken, and how the Cos- 


ON THE KOAD TO DANTZIC. 


145 


sacks met the fire poured in upon them, and he had 
an outline of the whole campaign even down to the 
day on which, as they had heard, the couriers had 
been sent to Konigsberg with Napoleon’s olfering 
of peace to Frederick. 

“You have escaped by some great miracle, com- 
rade,” said a brawny, brown-faced Prussian, as 
they stood in the crowded street and watched the 
soldiers of Benningsen flying past them into the 
town. “ Were you long a prisoner ?” 

<f A few days only — 1 was taken as a spy.” 

An officer dismounted and joined the group, and 
the story of the man’s escape was told to him. 
Then he was questioned further upon the events 
which had transpired, and satisfied the colonel 
that he had some information valuable to the allied 
generals. 

“ Come with me, my man, and bring your peas- 
ant comrade with you ; you may be able to tell us 
what we want to know.” 

The words of the officer were few, but they were 
uttered in a meaning tone, and he eyed the strange 
man closely, as they forced their way among the 
soldiers, and crossed the bridge again, taking the 
narrow road which led towards the Russian lines. 

Two of the Prussian soldiers whom the officer 
called from the ranks of the passing regiment, fell 
in with them, and so, the strangers marched along 
with bayonets on either side of them. Valmeau 


146 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


and Pierre Niege were being taken into the pres- 
ence of the allied generals. 

Their plan had, so far, carried them in safety. 
Little did the unsuspecting soldiers think that the 
man whom they had found lying seemingly un- 
conscious by the open window, had himself fired 
the building, and that the man whose strong arms 
swung the axe upon the burning roof, was his 
accomplice. 

The story they had told was one Davoust had 
taught them, and it took a cool brain and steady 
hand, now that they were on the way, to reach the 
object of their secret service. 

After a long and fatiguing march far into the 

O O O 

afternoon, Valmeau found himself still accompanied 
by the soldiers, and as yet without any means of 
satisfactory communication with Pierre Niege. 

They had scarcely rested an hour on their route, 
and they were very like prisoners, being conveyed 
to head-quarters under a careful guard, while their 
position was fast becoming dangerous in the ex- 
treme. 

The officer who accompanied them was a cool, 
determined, and careful man. He watched the 
two men with unceasing vigilance, and more than 
once in their route, Valmeau saw his quick eye 
scanning every feature of their faces in his quiet, 
sullen manner. 

His questions were few, but he kept close by the 
side of the French lieutenant, and left Niege to the 


ON THE ROAD TO DANTZIC. 147 

companionship of the sergeant and the soldiers, 
until they halted at a dilapidated inn by the side 
of the road leading towards the river, beyond 
which lay the Russian right. 

“ Wait for me here,” he said. “I will come or 
send for you.” 

And for the first time the lieutenant and Pierre 
were left alone. 

The plan of procedure given in sealed orders 
from the hands of Marshal Davoust was then re- 
hearsed. The story of their ill-treatment at the 
hands of the French was told over carefully, and 
the maps and plans prepared by Davoust were 
examined ; they contained an outline of the French 
forces, and a rude diagram of their position, all of 
which had been made strictly correct as they had 
been developed in the battles of the 7th and 8th, 
and in the events which followed those fearfully 
disastrous days. The trick which Valmeau had 
planned, his' rescue from the burning building, and 
the work which Pierre had done, would help them 
in the confirmation of their story, and give a pretty 
coloring of probability to the characters which 
they had assumed. 

Valmeau and Pierre Niege had been watching 
the lazy soldiers as they sat near them in the small, 
dark, dreary-looking room of the wayside inn, and 
as the guard was summoned, and they were com- 
manded to follow the sergeant, Valmeau placed 
his papers carefully in his breast, and in silence, if 


148 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


not in doubt as to the result, the two men awaited 
the examination. 

Platoff, the Cossack leader, who had won a fame 
which should travel down into the pages of the 
history of the memorable fight at Preuss-Eylau, 
had taken his position near the ruined hostelry. 

In a shattered farm-house that had been robbed 
of all its furniture, and its lower rooms converted 
into a stable for his jaded horses, the chief of the 
Cossack lancers held council with his staff. 

They were resting after the hard work they had 
done, and the tall form of the intrepid Platoff was 
stretched at full length on a mattress spread on 
the floor of one of the upper chambers. A great 
wood fire filled the open chimney, and a dozen of 
his officers were smoking and drinking in the room 
around him. 

Into this curious crowd of men, an officer ushered 
our two adventurers, and led them before the 
general. 

As the men were brought before him, Platoff 
raised himself upon his elbow, laid his pipe upon 
the bench beside him, and quaffed the glass of 
liquor which stood at his elbow. His left hand 
was bound in lint and strips of flannel; it bore the 
mark of a personal encounter, a sabre cut given by 
a cuirassier whom he had cut down at the bridge, 
cleaving him from shoulder to waist, though not 
until the soldier had made a thrust which Platoff 
named and caught upon his hand and arm, but 


ON THE ROAD TO DANTZIC. 


149 


which had nevertheless inflicted a painful if not a 
dangerous wound. 

“You escaped from Preuss-Eylau, you say, my 
man,” was his first question, and it was addressed 
to Yalmeau; “You wear the uniform of the 
Prussian guards, I see, — are you a soldier or a 
straggler ? ” He eyed intently as he spoke the 
faded uniform that Yalmeau wore. 

“Your entrance into the town saved me my 
life, general,” was Y almeau’s cool reply. “ I should 
have been shot as a spy in a few hours ; but they 
did not get my papers. They are here.” 

Yalmeau saw in a single glance at the Cossack’s 
countenance that he must gain his point quickly, 
or not at all, so he looked the soldier in the face, 
and then glanced around him, somewhat nervously, 
upon the officers. 

Platoff called one of the youngest of them, a 
bright-eyed favorite of his, to his side, and motion- 
ed him to take the papers, directing him to make 
an examination of their contents. 

“ The man is right, general, he must have been 
a spy, and a good one, too. Here are plans of the 
whole campaign, and an outline of the forces they 
employed against us. Let him explain them to 
you. They may be useful.” 

Yalmeau embraced the opportunity without 
waiting for a second bidding. One by one he 
named the strategic and salient points of the French 
position as they were pointed out upon the rough 


150 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


map, and he gave his account in careful terms, of 
how he had, assisted only by Niege, evaded the 
vigilance of the French outposts and reached the 
bridge leading towards the Prussian lines, when 
they were betrayed by a peasant woman whom 
they had offended. 

His capture, the examination before Davoust, 
the condemnation to be shot, the severity of the 
treatment which they had received by the men of 
Fusil’s regiment in whose care they had been 
placed, the sudden retreat of the French, the dis- 
position of the stores which the retreating soldiers 
had concealed, or had already prepared to destroy, 
their plan of firing the town, and burning up their 
sick and wounded prisoners, all this was rehearsed 
in a careful way, and the well-told story found 
credence in the minds of the Cossack officers. 

And then they questioned Pierre Niege. 

He had been a conscript, so he said, and had 
been wounded early in the fight of the 7th, being 
left for dead as the French were driven from the 
town, after its first capture. His story agreed 
well with the one told by Valmeau ; he said he 
had made friends with his comrade just before 
their capture, and was preparing to desert with 
him, when they were taken, tried, and sentenced 
to be shot, from which alone the sudden retreat of 
the French forces and the firing of the town had 
saved them. 

The story of Napoleon’s object in his abandon- 


OX THE ROAD TO DANTZIC. 


151 


ment of the Polish campaign, and his forced retreat 
upon the Vistula, were all told over, and found 
favor in Platoff’s easy mind. He could tell them 
all the plans of the campaign, the deserter-conscript 
said, and he knew every officer who had managed 
the retreat ; he spoke loudly of the weakness of the 
French, and their great losses in the fight which 
had checked Napoleon’s march to the shores of the 
Baltic. 

Then the two men were brought together, and 
each questioned as to their presence with the 
French, the one as a spy, the other as a deserter 
from his conscript regiment. 

At last there was a silence — a long and painful 
one to Niege and Valmeau — and their papers were 
taken from them. Their persons were searched in 
the presence of the officers, and an old wound 
which Pierre had once received while hunting in 
the Vosges, and which, luckily for him, the rough 
usage of the war had caused to be inflamed and 
painful, served to make his story probable, at 
least. 

A second examination at the hands of one of the 
staff officers, elicited no information, although one 
of the Prussian generals seemed to doubt the 
story told by Pierre Niege, and called the officers 
aside, and then with Platoff, held an earnest con- 
versation, in whispered tones, which neither Val- 
meau nor his comrade could overhear. 

“We have no right to let these fellows go, and 


152 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


yet their information may be true,” at length the 
wounded general answered. “ Let them be sent at 
once to Dantzic.” 


A FAMILY JAR. 


153 


CHAPTER XIV. 

A FAMILY JAR. 

There was trouble in Master Jean Duprez’s bache- 
lor household. 

The excitement in and around the village which 
the disappearance of Marie Lascour had occasioned, 
and the part he took in it, had been a source of 
great annoyance to him. 

He had no reason to suspect the complicity of 
those about him, for he had found his household 
all at home as usual when he returned from the 
widow’s, on the night of Marie’s flight. 

Lisette was waiting for him, nodding, by the 
fire. He told her of the girl’s escape, and what he 
knew of it, and Lisette gave many ideas of where 
she might have gone, so Lisette, very clearly, knew 
nothing of it. 

For Franz, neither Duprez nor his morose 
companion cared to inquire as they entered 
the house. A small, dark, kitchen closet, which 
the generosity of his master had appropriated 
to his use for a bed-chamber, was his usual retreat, 


154 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


and there, suffering from the bruises of his fall, the 
lad was lying upon his pallet of straw, watching 
and listening for the return of the men from whom 
he had escaped an hour before. 

The random shot from Duprez’s pistol had done 
him no harm. His feet were entangled in the rope 
which he was carrying, and he stumbled and fell 
just as the shot was fired, thus escaping a wound 
from the bullet, and he was at home before Lisette. 

And so, Duprez saw nothing unusual when he 
reached his cottage, and vented his spleen upon the 
woman only; and soon she crept away to bed, 
leaving Gaspard and Duprez alone to ruminate 
upon the failure of their plan, or to quarrel, as it 
pleased them best. 

Lisette had, for her part, little to fear from 
betrayal by the boy. He did her bidding always 
and without question. She seemed to love him, 
and was kind to him, and her kindness even Jean 
Duprez dared not forbid; and so, she and Franz 
became silent partners in the household, just as 
Gaspard and Duprez were partners on the other 
side. 

More than a week had elapsed since Marie 
Lascour’s flight, and yet no tidings of her had 
reached either Madame Lascour or the neighbors. 
The secret of her whereabouts had been closely 
kept, and no one who, in the interest of her perse- 
cutor, had made inquiries about her, could learn the 
place of her concealment. 


A FAMILY JAR. 


155 


Duprez was the possessor of a marriage contract, 
to which one signature was wanting, and he would 
willingly have paid a high price to have found the 
hand to make the document complete. 

In this emergency, even his serene rascality, 
aided by Gaspard’s unscrupulous cunning, was of 
no avail, and his rage was not appeased when news 
was brought to him that Marie was not in the 
Canton. 

The intelligence which capped the climax of his 
disappointment, came direct from fhe village inn ; 
there was a drunken soldier who had seen her only 
a day or two before, and he brought with him a 
letter, written upon a scrap of paper, addressed to 
Madame Julie. Gaston, the inn-keeper, had re- 
ceived it, and sent it to Duprez, before it reached 
the widow. 

And so the first news they received of the miss- 
ing girl came from herself ; and they learned that 
she had gone off as vivandiere to a passing regi- 
ment, and was wending her way to the front in 
search of Pierre Niege. 

The trouble in Master Jean Duprez’s household 
was not without reason, and Gaspard was in no 
gentle mood to receive the censure of the ex- 
steward in matters for which he was in no way 
responsible. 

On one occasion there had been a passage at 
arms between them ; Duprez was sullen and fault- 
finding, and Gaspard had just returned from the 


156 


PTJT TO THE TEST. 


village with a confirmation of the news, and had 
seen the soldier, now sobered from his wine-drinking 
of the night before, on his way to Madame Julie to 
tell her the story. 

Gaspard had little to hope for from Duprez, and 
he found himself the object of more than one re- 
mark, not very complimentary or to his credit, from 
those who regretted their ill-treatment of Marie 
now that she was gone, and did not hesitate to speak 
boldly of both Jean Duprez and the other members 
of his household. 

“Well, you’re back, and come to tell me that 
the girl is out of my reach for the present, I sup- 
pose,” was the cool greeting he received as he 
tossed his stick aside, and entered the room in 
which Duprez sat smoking. 

“ I come to tell you nothing. If you want news, 
go seek it for yourself.” 

“ You are ill-tempered this morning, my man,” 
returned Duprez, “ and such looks won’t answer 
here, at least not with me.” 

“Neither sour looks nor sweet looks, Jean 
Duprez, are at your bidding. I’m tired of you 
and of your growling.” 

“ And where’s the remedy ? Iam master here, 
I think, and mean to remain master while you live 
with me,” replied Duprez, sternly, and with a look 
at Gaspard which the latter did not hesitate to 
return with a fierce, glaring expression in his eye, 
his hands clutching nervously, meanwhile, as if he 


A FAMILY JAR. 


157 


were desirous to reach Duprez, and deal out ven- 
geance for the insults he had suffered ; he answered 
calmly, nevertheless. 

“Yes, you are master here. You play your 
cards with care, Duprez, and your hand is a good 
one. I suppose that I must hide my time, and 
wait.” 

“For what? If hiding your time means enmity 
to me, why, wait, in welcome. But come, speak 
out ; I hate this growling discontent, it don’t suit 
me.” 

“ I will speak out, then, Duprez, and you shall 
hear me ! ” 

Gaspard closed the door leading to the room in 
which Lisette was working, and drew a stool 
towards Duprez as he continued : 

“ Twenty years ago, there was a compact made 
between us, to dispose of the twin hoys, the heirs 
to the estate of the Marquis De Briennes — ” 

“ Well, what of it ? ” interrupted Duprez, turning 
sharply upon him. “ The brats are both dead long 
ago, and I have possession of what there was left 
of the property. I agreed to give you a certain 
sum for your assistance and discretion. Have I 
not paid it all, and more ? ” 

“Yes, so far as the money is concerned. But I 
am tired of living here. People hate you in the 
village, and they hate me, and this last affair of 
yours is a piece of rascality not in the original 
contract, and no affair of mine.” 


168 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ Rascality, Gaspard! Why not say it in some 
plainer word if you can do so ? How does it inter- 
fere with you ? As far as I can see, I am the only 
sufferer from its failure.” 

“You suffer in the loss of the girl, I, quite as 
much in the enmity of all around us. We are 
hardly safe in Alsace. The soldiers have taken up 
the story and they threaten me. Poor Franz seems 
to be the only one of us all who receives a decent 
word or look.” 

“ Why, one would think the fool was some ill- 
omened brat of yours, you take such interest hi 
him ! He is mine, and so are you, Gaspard. You 
dare not leave me, and as for him, I’ll teach him bet- 
ter than to prattle lies about me at the village inn ! ” 

Duprez rose from his chair, and took up the 
ready cane which lay beside him, going towards 
the kitchen, where he hoped to find the boy. 

“Not now, Duprez, not now, my man!” inter- 
posed Gaspard, laying his hand upon the master’s 
arm. “ The boy lias done nothing to deserve it, and 
you shall not beat him.” 

Duprez felt that he had aroused a dangerous 
element in Gaspard’s character, and so he stopped 
and threw the cane away. 

“Well, if you are his champion, Gaspard; but 
where is the boy ? ” 

“ In the vault, where you placed him yesterday. 
Your cruelty to him and your persecution of 
Marie Lascour — ” 


A FAMILY JAR. 


159 


Duprez was getting more than angry. He turned 
his back upon Gaspard, and paced up and down the 
narrow room, his face livid with rage. 

“ Persecutions, eh, Gaspard ? ” he muttered. 
“You are growing too moral in your old age to 
live long in this wicked world ! If they were 
attentions to the lady, they were of little good, if 
persecutions, thoroughly unsuccessful ! ” 

The sarcastic humor evinced by Jean Duprez 
was of service to him. The easy manner in which 
the remark was delivered, for a moment disarmed 
Gaspard, even in his determined hostility. 

“That’s very true, Jean Duprez,” his comrade 
quietly remarked. “ She has gone off to the wars in 
search of her conscript husband, and you are here 
alone with a marriage contract for her substitute.” 

“ True enough there, Gaspard. I wish now that 
I had not sent off this snow-drift foundling. Con- 
script husband , did you say? why, man, she has 
no proof of it ! The scrip was burned among the 
papers which I tossed into the fire myself — ” 

“ You are sure of that ? ” 

“Sure as I am of anything. I had it in my 
pocket, and burned them all together. What if she 
finds the man ? it will not alter the story that I 
have told about her, and which every one believes.” 

“You will have a rival, then, depend upon it. 
There’s Yalmeau, the gay lieutenant in Fusil’s 
regiment. He had his eyes upon her, and that 
fellow’s dangerous. I tell you, Jean Duprez, that 


160 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


man looks as though he had a noble’s blood in 
him, and all a noble’s passions.” 

“ Perhaps — ” replied Duprez, with gravity. 
“These gay young officers cannot be trusted in 
the company of pretty women! Where is that 
boy ? Go call him here.” 

“I told you where he was — crouching in the 
vault for fear of you, I suppose. It would be a 
blessing, Duprez, if your ill-treatment killed the 
lad, and released him from your mastership.” 

The words were poorly suited to the humor of 
the ex-steward. He had policy enough to conceal 
his vexation, however, and contented himself with 
a cautious answer. 

“You are speaking boldly, Gaspard Jarome; 
you forget that we are partners in a common crime, 
and that if our guilt were known, there would be 
scarcely a day of life left to either of us.” 

He went out as he finished the sentence, and 
Gaspard was left alone to watch and listen, fearing 
that Duprez had gone to search for the lad, to vent 
on him the spleen he dared not visit on himself. 

Lisette, who had been listening behind the half- 
closed door of her own room, came out and watched 
with him. 

“God help the poor boy, if he has not crept 
away!” she whispered, and together they stood 
beside the stairway leading to the vault which 
Duprez so often made his prison-house. 

They were not disappointed. There were sounds 


A FAMILY JAR. 


161 


of moans and cries from below, and Duprez dragged 
the supplicating idiot from the cellar, and pushed 
him before him into the room above. 

The poor lad was indeed a piteous spectacle ; his 
feet were bare and blue with cold and dampness, 
and clinging to his hair and clothes were fragments 
of the dirty straw, into which he had crept for 
warmth. He had been weeping bitterly, and the 
marks of tears were seen upon his sallow, careworn 
cheeks, and as he came into the warm room, he shiv- 
ered with cold, and instinctively crept towards the 
fire; then, seeing Gaspard, he clung to him for 
protection, standing between him and Lisette, ap- 
pealing alternately to each for assistance, by looks, 
if not by words. 

His mute entreaty was hard to withstand, and 
Duprez saw at a glance that a conflict in his house- 
hold was inevitable. 

“Oh, Master Jean, don’t beat me, please! I’ll 
stay close by Lisette, if you will let me. Please 
let me stay with her ! ” 

The boy clung to the woman’s dress as he spoke, 
and they stood, with Duprez at bay, Franz shrink- 
ing close to Lisette tor protection, while Gaspard 
looked on in silence. 

Either Gaspard’s manner, Lisette’s attitude of 
protection, or the lad’s appeal, perhaps all three, 
angered Duprez beyond all endurance. 

He brushed the woman aside, caught Franz by 


162 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


the arm, and dragging him away from her, raised 
his heavy cane to strike him. 

Before it fell, however, Gaspard placed himself 
beneath the stick and caught the blow upon his 
arm. He sprang upon Duprez, and by a sudden, 
dexterous movement, wrenched the cane from his 
grasp, and sent it whirling across the room. His 
hand was placed upon Duprez’s throat, and with a 
muttered oath, he pressed him back against the 
wall, holding him with an unrelenting grasp. 

It was a strange scene. Lisette had appre- 
hended a conflict of some kind, but she had not 
looked for such an encounter, and she stood mute 
and immoveable with astonishment at Gaspard’s 
unexpected action; the poor, abused, half-witted 
Franz, in a transport of joy at his deliverance, fell 
at Gaspard’s feet, and clasping his knees sobbed 
out his thanks; while Gaspard, beside himself 
with anger, filled with pity for the ill-used lad, and 
remembering the insults which had been heaped 
upon him through years of servitude, looked his 
hated oppressor full in the face with murder 
gleaming in his eyes. 

With a howl of rage, Duprez shook off Gaspard’s 
heavy hand, and stood before him choking with 
wrath, his fists clenched and his cold, grey eyes 
almost starting from their sockets. 

“ Oh, Master Gaspard, please , Master Gaspard, 
don't let him beat me, it hurts me so, to-day ! ” 
pleaded the lad, as, after a moment Duprez turned 


A FAMILY JAR. 


163 


from Gaspard and again attempted to reach him. 

Gaspard motioned Lisette to take the boy away, 
and again confronted Duprez. 

“Keep off, Jean Duprez!” he said, in a steady, 
determined tone. “You have done enough 
already — ” 

“And you,” retorted the master, his face a 
ghastly white, “ you have nothing else to do than 
to be champion for an idiot thief — ” 

He would have completed the sentence, had not 
Lisette stopped him. She brushed past him, lead- 
ing Franz, and pushed the boy through the door, and 
out into the road. 

“ Thief or no thief, Jean Duprez, he shall stay 
here no longer. Go, Franz, go — any shelter will 
be better than to stay here ! ” 

She threw his tattered coat to him, and his well- 
worn cap, and motioned him away. But the lad 
stopped and looked wistfully back into the room a 
moment, then darted past them towards the 
chimney. 

A stick with a knot of ribbons tied to its end, 
lay upon the bench in the corner, and he caught it 
quickly, and then darted through the door again, 
standing before them on the dusty road. 

“ You needn’t wait for me, Master Jean ! I’ll go 
to be a soldier — good-bye, Master Jean ! Good- 
bye, Gaspard ! Good-bye, Lisette ! ” 

He caught the woman round the neck and kissed 
her twice ; he seemed to feel pain at parting from 


164 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


her, for his lips quivered and tears ran down his 
dirty cheeks. 

Then, starting in a half trot, he ran down towards 
the valley-road and was lost to sight. 

Duprez would have followed him, had not Gas- 
pard placed a heavy hand upon his shoulder. 

“He is gone, and you shall not fetch him. It 
is better for us all that he should go,” he said, as 
he obstructed Duprez’s passage from the house. 

“ What would you do, Gaspard, are you crazy, 
man?” was all the answer. 

u I would do nothing, Jean Duprez ! But you 
are no longer master here — this little play of ours 
is ended ! ” 


THE YIYANDIERE. 


165 


CHAPTER XV. 

THE YIYANDIERE. 

A few miles from the little village over which 
Jean Duprez claimed control by way of feudal 
right, and of which the soldiers had control by 
virtue of their military possession, on one of the 
narrow herd-paths which led towards the mountains, 
stood the remains of a dilapidated goat-shed. It 
had served many a weary peasant as a resting 
place, or had provided a shelter from the sudden 
rain-storm. 

For a week or more Marie Lascour had been a 
voluntary prisoner in this place. It had served to 
give her shelter, and to conceal her from Duprez ; 
but it had been a weary week, and at the close of 
what seemed to her an almost endless day, she sat 
upon a low stool by th ■ door, looking down towards 
the valley, watching for her only visitor, and j ust 
then, her only friend, Lisette. 

All day she had been watching and waiting for 
Duprez’s housekeeper, and now, just as the sun 
was setting, she could see a woman coming slowly up 


166 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


the road, toiling along at a very snail’s pace, it 
seemed to the weary girl, followed by a grotesque 
form, carrying something like a bundle upon its 
head. 

As the two figures came nearer, she saw that 
the woman was Lisette, and that the strange shape 
coming after her was Franz, carefully balancing a 
basket upon his head, endeavoring to preserve it 
in position by an occasional application of his 
hands. 

“You are come at last, my only friend,” she 
said, sadly, as the woman at length stood beside 
her, “ and Franz is with you, I see ; what have you 
in your basket, Franz ? ” 

“ I don’t know what it is, Marie, but it is very 
heavy,” answered the lad, easing his burden to the 
ground, and sitting down in the road beside it. 

Lisette paid no attention to his remark or action. 
She took the eager, outstretched hand which Marie 
extended, and then sat down upon the stool to 
rest, the girl standing by her side and pushing 
the hood of her heavy cloak back from her shoul- 
ders. “ You see that I am here, my child, and I 
have brought Franz with me. You were tired of 
waiting ? ” 

“ Yes, very, very tired. Here I have been all 
day watching for you, and I thought that you 
were never coming.” 

“But she did come, Marie, and she’s brought 


THE VIVANDIERE. 


167 


you lots of things, and I have carried them nearly 
all the way ■‘rom Alsace.” 

“Thank you, Franz, though I don’t know what 
it is that you have brought,” the girl ieplied. 
“ My mother, Lisette, my poor, poor mother — does 
she know where I am ? ” 

“That she does not, nor does any one. It is my 
secret and yours, my child, and we must keep it. 
You must get away from here at once.” 

“ Away from here, Lisette ? but where ? I can- 
not go; I cannot hear to leave my mother so. 
Please let me go hack to Alsace first, to bid my 
poor mother adieu.” 

“ Are you crazy, girl ? do you think Duprez will 
again let you slip from his clutches ? No, Marie, 
he is as cruel as the grave ; he will never let you 
go. Pierre Niege is your husband, you say ; well 
then, your choice lies between your husband and 
your mother ; you must decide, Marie, and oh, be 
brave my girl; I can care for your mother, but 
your husband has only you.” Lisette uttered these 
last words in a tone of encouragement, and as she 
spoke she laid her hand caressingly upon Marie’s 
shoulder. 

With a sob of agony the girl covered her face 
with her hands, and for a moment, made no reply ; 
then raising her head, and showing a face as pale 
as death, but ennobled with the consciousness of a 
steady purpose, she said in a clear, ringing tone : 

“ You speak the truth, Lisette, and I see my duty 


168 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


will lead me to my husband. He used to tell me, 
Lisette, that sometime he would try my love for 
him, and I vowed I would be true ; but the trial 
comes from heaven and not from him. Oh, Pierre, 
Pierre, it was for life and death I promised you, 
and I will not falter! As God is my judge I will 
stand the test ! ” 

As she spoke she raised her hands above her 
head as if in passionate appeal to a higher power 
to aid and assist her in her coming trials; then 
there came to her a sudden sense of loneliness, a 
dread of the long, wearisome journey which she 
was about to make, unprotected and alone, and 
leaning her head upon Lisette’s shoulder, she wept 
aloud. 

The woman threw one arm protectingly around 
her, and stroking back the damp hair which had 
fallen over her forehead, strove in her homely way, 
to comfort the desolate girl, but her own voice 
faltered as she spoke : 

“ Come, come, Marie, take courage ! The hour 
before daybreak is the darkest hour of the night, 
my girl; your troubles will grow lighter soon. 
So far have not things worked together for the 
best ? Your heart whispered that Pierre was 
living, though Duprez tried hard to make you 
think that he was dead. I shall not soon forget 
how crazy with joy you were when I told you I 
had heard him tell Gaspard the story was all 
a falsehood. You have a long way to go, I know. 


THE VIVANDIERE. 


169 


but you will not have to go alone. I brought 
Franz with me to-day because I mean him to go 
with you. Duprez will kill the boy if he stays in 
Alsace, and though the lad is but half-witted, he 
knows more than people give him credit for, and 
will serve his friends faithfully. Come, Marie, 
come into the hut, and I will tell you of a plan I 
have made, and show you the disguise that you 
shall travel in.” 

She spoke in soothing tones, and by degrees 
Marie’s sobs became less violent, and finally ceased ; 
then lifting her head, and drying the tears from 
her eyes, she suffered Lisette to lead her into the 
hut, and even showed some manifestations of inter- 
est in the plan of which the woman spoke. 

Closing the rude door, Lisette threw aside the 
long cloak — which until now she had worn about 
her — and disclosed a bundle, which, when un- 
fastened, proved to contain the skirt, cap, and 
jacket of a vivandiere. 

“ I have been three days in getting these things 
together; see, Marie, they’re quite pretty and will 
serve our purpose well. Put them on, and while 
you’re dressing, I’ll make some porridge for our 
supper ; poor Franz is very hungry, and food will 
do you no harm.” 

So saying, she opened the basket Franz had 
brought, and took from it a loaf of bread, a jug of 
milk, a few thick slices of bread and meat, and 
lastly, a little bag containing meal. Then «he 


170 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


tossed an empty basin to Franz who was playing 
without, and bade him fill it with water from a 
spring which was near at hand. 

With a flint and steel and a few dry fagots, she 
kindled a fire and heated the water which he 
brought ; then throwing into it handful after hand- 
ful of meal from the little bag, she stirred the 
mixture briskly with a stick. 

“If Master Jean could see you now, he’d say 
you use too much of his good white meal,” said 
Franz, watching her with interest. “ May I have 
some of the porridge when it’s done ? it looks so 
hot and nice.” 

“ Yes, all you want. Go call Marie.” 

There was no need of calling her, however, for 
as Lisette spoke, the girl emerged from behind the 
few rude boards which partitioned off a corner of 
the room. She was dressed in the uniform which 
Lisette had brought her, and came towards them 
carrying her cap in her hand. 

With aery of surprise Franz caught at it, and 
turned her round and round. 

“ Oh, Marie, what a pretty vivandiere you 
make! you want a canteen, though, with wine in 
it, and a pretty little sword to fasten by your 
side ! ” he said. “ And am I going away with 
her, Lisette ? and will she wear the pretty dress to 
travel in ? ” 

“Yes, Franz, you are going with her, and you 


THE YIVANDIERE. 171 

must learn to love her quite as well as you say you 
love me.” 

“ I do love you, Lisette, indeed I do ! I some- 
times think you ought to be my mother, — you are 
the only one who ever says a kind word to me, ex- 
cept poor Madame Julie, and she is — ” 

Lisette looked sharply at him, and placed her 
finger on her lips as a signal that he should be 
silent. Not, however, before Marie had seen the 
action. 

“ My mother is what, Lisette ? Tell me — is she 
sick, or — or dead?” She sank sobbing upon the 
woman’s shoulder, and as Lisette drew her close to 
her bosom she stooped and kissed her, while some- 
thing very like a tear fell upon Marie’s cheek. 

“Your mother is not well, Marie, but will soon 
be better. Leave her to me, my child, and I will 
care for her. But you must go away from here 
to-morrow ! ” 

With a shudder, the girl drew aside from her, 
and knelt down upon the ground with her hands 
upraised, and the few broken words she uttered, 
sounded like a prayer ; then with one look at the 
woman who stood watching her — a look which 
carried in it a whole volume of her heart’s misery — 
she turned towards the fire, and together they ate 
the scanty fare which Lisette had brought. 

The history of every event since the night of 
her flight from her mother’s cottage was told her, 
not excepting the quarrel between Gaspard and 


172 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


Jean Duprez, ending in Franz’s escape ; then Lisette 
made known her plan. 

She had learned from the soldiers at the inn, that 
it was hut a day’s march by easy walking to the 
nearest rendezvous, from whence there were regi- 
ments sent away every day to join the grand army. 

By the aid of one of the wounded veterans, she 
had obtained the uniform of a vivandiere , and the 
same man had promised to meet her at the goat- 
shed in the morning, and bring her news which 
way Marie must go, and how. 

“ You think that you can trust this man ? ” 
Marie inquired. “ May he not betray us to 
Duprez ? ” 

“No fear of that, Marie. He came back to 
Alsace wounded, and owes his life to me.” 

While they were speaking, there was a sound as 
of some one calling, and a loud “ halloa ! ” came 
sweeping up from the valley road. They looked 
in the direction from which the sound proceeded, 
and saw a man standing upon one of the steep 
ledges of rock below, waving a staff in the air, and 
gazing towards them ; when he perceived that he 
was recognized, he began to climb the foot-path 
which led towards them. 

“ He is coming now, my child ! I do not under- 
stand it, I am afraid it means mischief.” 

She placed herself before Marie, and holding 
Franz close to her, bade him be silent while she 
watched the man who was coming towards them. 


THE VIVANDIERE. 


173 


“Well, what news? Why are you here so 
soon ? ” she asked, before the new-comer had time 
to rest and regain his breath after toiling up the 
steep path. “ What has happened ? ” 

“ You must get the girl away to-night. Duprez 
knows where she is hid, and will be after her at 
once.” 

“ How do you know it ? who has told him ? ” 

“ He heard it from soldiers at the village inn. 
They saw you bringing a basket, loaded, with you, 
yesterday, in this direction, and knew that you 
came back without it. One of them was drunk, 
and told Duprez. I heard them talking with 
Gaston, and Duprez has gone to look for you.” 

“ Then let him look. But what can we do ? 
The roads are steep and stony and you have no 
staff.” 

“ Make one for the girl ; I know the way well 
and do not need any.” 

He drew a long, sharp knife from his breast, and 
cut a stout sapling from the sturdy mountain 
undergrowth. 

“You are not afraid, Marie Lascour, to travel 
in the darkness ? ” he asked, trimming the sapling 
to its base, and pointing the end of it by quick, 
deep cuts with the keen, bright blade of the hunt- 
ing knife. “You can stand the journey, think 
you ? ” 

“I will try it, sir,” was all her answer; then 


174 


♦ 


PUT TO THE TEST. 

turning to Lisette, she threw her arras about the 
woman in a farewell embrace. 

“You know the way, and can place a league 
between you and the village before sunrise ; ” said 
Lisette, appealing to the soldier who still stood 
cutting the sapling to its proper length. “ Must 
she go to-night ? ” 

“At once — come, I am ready. Is the boy to 
go ? ” was the impatient question, to which Lisette 
replied in a monosyllable : “ yes.” 

Without more ado, the remains of the bread and 
cheese and meat were gathered up and put into 
the bag which had held the meal, and Lisette slung it 
upon the stick which the soldier had carried. 

“This must be your load, Franz; see that you 
don’t lose your breakfast. There is no time to 
waste, Marie, I must creep back to Alsace, and 
you must be far away from here by sunrise. You 
may trust Raoul, for he will take you safely to the 
rendezvous. No words, my child, take God’s 
blessing with you, and save your best strength till 
to-morrow. Good-bye, Franz, you must try to 
make a soldier ! ” 

She kissed Marie fondly, and then the boy, lin- 
gering with him for a moment, as she placed the 
stick upon his shoulder and slung the bundle over 

it. 

“I will meet you, Raoul, at the inn, to-morrow 
night. If I am not there, keep an eye on Jean 
Duprez ; you understand me ? ” 


THE VIVANDIEEE. 


175 


She waited a moment for the answer, gathering 
her cloak about her. 

“ I will be there ; wait for me if I am delayed,” 
he said, and so, without more leave-taking, the 
woman passed down the road towards the valley, 
leaving Marie leaning upon the shoulder of the 
strange friend whom she had found, and about to 
turn her face from Alsace, perhaps forever. 


176 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XVI. 

A BIVOUAC QUARREL. 

Our story now calls us to the banks of the Vis- 
tula, where the grand army of Napoleon lay, like 
a huge watch-dog, with his eyes waiily fixed upon 
the fortified towns between his extended lines and 
the shores of the Baltic. 

The month of May, 1807, found the Emperor 
with a portion of his army laying siege to "Dantzic, 
holding his base of supplies upon the Vistula, and 
calling every regiment to his aid, from Switzerland 
and the Rhine country ; it found him building up 
his shattered columns, closing up his broken ranks, 
and holding fast with a tenacity which was little 
less than desperation, to his lines of communication, 
stretching from the Baltic to the river. He was 
deceiving the Russian General Benningsen by his 
feint of relinquishing an invasive campaign, and 
holding Ney and his columns of reserves in instant 
readiness to cooperate with Davoust, when the 
fall of Dantzic should have been accomplished. 

On the southern borders of Dantzic, shone the 


A BIVOUAC QUARREL. 


177 


watch-fires of the besieging forces that seemed in 
the distance like a semi-circle of lanterns. Hard 
by, the men were working busily on the parallels, 
while in his remote tent sat the master-spirit of the 
army, anxiously balancing the scale of chances. 

The smoke from Captain Maurice Fusil’s cigar- 
ette was curling in pretty little circles, as he lay 
upon his camp bed, beneath the shelter of his tent, 
with the moonlight shining full upon him. Just 
outside, stood his companion officer leaning upon 
the tent-ropes. This officer was Lieutenant Val- 
meau. 

“ Dantzic looks pretty in the moonlight, captain,” 
said Valmeau, lazily, as he flung himself down 
upon a camp-stool and drew it back that he might 
lean upon the canvas. 

“Does it?” was the cool reply from the lazy 
captain, as he lighted a fresh-rolled cigarette. 
“You ought to know, for you have been there.” 

“Yes, I have been there, and I can truthfully 
say that I like this shelter tent better than the 
ugly prison walls of their gloomy Prussian fortress.” 

“You didn’t stay there long, however.” 

“ Quite as long as I cared to stay, Fusil, I can 
assure you. It was a narrow chance I had of it ; 
there was just a ghost of a chance of promotion 
for somebody ; a promotion to a higher sphere of 
existence than this, Fusil,” replied Valmeau. “A 
little more light, and a little less rain, that night, 


178 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


and there would have been one officer less in 
Davoust’s division, I am certain.” 

“ That ghost of a promotion which your death 
would have rendered substance, then, remains a 
spirit, I am thinking. You gained nothing by the 
enterprise except a mention, without even so much 
as a recommendation for an epaulette with deeper 
fringe.” 

Fusil raised himself on his arm, then sprang to 
his feet, and with a steady yawn, pulled up a stool 
from the table and sat down with Valmeau. 

Perhaps he admired the moonlight, perhaps he 
may have been watching the line of flickering 
camp-fires, perhaps the course of a signal light from 
behind the works of a distant town — but he was 
certainly watching his lieutenant as well, and 
waiting the result of his sarcastic remark. 

In a moment the answer came. 

“ If I bide my time, Fusil, perhaps I may find a 
vacancy before long. A few more such fights as 
we had at the bridge at Preuss-Eylau, and there 
may be a captaincy vacant. 

“ Better aim for a colonelcy, and be done with it. 
But tell me, Valmeau, how was it that you man- 
aged to leave Niege behind when you escaped 
from the Prussian lines that night ; were you not 
together ? ” 

“ There was a chance for but one of us, and so I 
took it.” 

“ Well, perhaps you re right, and yet I always 


A BIVOUAC QUARREL. 


179 


wondered wliy you took him with you,” said Fusil. 
“ What did you want of him ? ” 

“Precisely what I did with him, Fusil, and 
nothing more. I hated the fellow, and he is out of 
the way, I think, by this time. But it’s no affair 
of yours, and it makes no difference now, with him 
I guess. 

“Shame upon you for it, Yalmeau; there’s been an 
ugly suspicion in my mind for some time, that you 
had deserted him. You hate the man, you say — 
what for ? ” 

“For the love of the pretty woman whom he 
left behind, Avhen you took him off to the war as a 
conscript. What do you suspect? speak out — 
you’ve spoken in plain words before. What is it ? ” 

“Foul play with Private Pierre Niege.” 

“ Everything’s fair in love, you know, Fusil. The 
pretty face and form of his Alsace sweetheart haunts 
me. I’ll wager you a bottle that she haunts you, 
too!” 

“Tut, tut, Yalmeau, you’re dreaming. I am 
sorry for the girl, that’s all.” 

“And well you should be; you wronged the 
girl as you call her, far more deeply than I did the 
fellow who marched away with you.” 

“You are mistaken there, lieutenant! I gave 
the man another chance, after he had drawn for 
service.” 

“ Your memory is treacherous, Fusil. We may 
as well be honest now towards each other. Yon 


180 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


suspect me of foul play with Pierre Niege. So far, 
so good; I suspect you of foul play with Marie 
Lascour, by giving Jean Duprez a white ribbon.” 

Captain Maurice Fusil began suddenly to grow 
uneasy. His cigarette was out, and he lighted a 
fresh one merely for effect, it seemed, taking fire 
from Yalmeau’s pipe, and looking down at him in 
the moonlight, as he passed it back to him. There 
was just the least tremor in his hand as he handed 
the pipe to Yalmeau, and the two men remained a 
second or two looking intently at each other, the 
one, lazily leaning against the side of the tent, and 
the other standing erect and manly, partly within 
the canvas shelter. 

Yalmeau had spoken decisively at least, though 
a more cautious man would probably have avoided 
quite so sudden an avowal of his presumed or actual 
knowledge. 

“ A white ribbon, eh ? ” drawled out F usil, 
measuring his words, and puffing the smoke from 
his mouth in little rings, “what do you know 
about it ? ” 

“ A great deal more than you would care to have 
me tell, captain. I know that Pierre Niege never 
came into the army by fair means, and I fancy 
you know more about it than you would be willing 
to acknowledge. 

“ Do you pretend to speak from fancy ? ” 

“ I speak from both fact and fancy. You see, 
Fusil, we are even on the score of rascality towards 


A BIVOUAC QUARREL. 


181 


this fellow ; you took him to the war and I have 
disposed of him at last, and not a day too soon ! ” 
“Not a day too soon! What in the name of 
Heaven had he done ? Why was your unsuccess- 
ful trip to Dantzic such a timely one ? ” 

Under the last words which Fusil uttered, Val- 
meau smarted. His service had been but poorly 
done, and while he had succeeded in bringing back 
with him the outline plans and some few memor- 
anda, he did not receive the promotion coveted, 
and Fusil had boldly told him that his desertion of 
Pierre Niege was at least suspected. 

They were not, then, the very best of friends. 
“Timely it was, Fusil, for both of us, perhaps, 
if we are rivals. I have news for you. Have you 
heard anything of Marie Lascour since you left 
Alsace ? ” 

“ Only by report. What news is there ? ” 

“ Better news than I had ever hoped for. She 
may soon be here.” 

“ Here , Yalmeau! Here with the grand army? 
Your love-fancies have betrayed you into dreaming, 
and like the princes of the fairy-tales, you hang 
your Houris on your eyelids ! That won’t do ! ” 

“ But I tell you, Captain Fusil, the girl has left 
the Canton. She is in the army, and knows the 
regiment that Niege is in ; she is on her way to 
seek him here before the walls of Dantzic. But 
you see, she is too late.” 

Fusil placed his hand upon Valmeau’s shoulder, 


182 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


and spoke slowly as he "bent down towards him. 

“Better keep that story to yourself. Your 
plans about this girl are none too honest, Louis 
Valmeau, and I know them. You have betrayed 
the unsuspecting man that you might gain the 
love of his pretty wife. Hands off, I say ! ” 

“ Why ? do you claim her ? ” 

“Ho, but I honor her for her love for her con- 
script husband, and respect her for her very suffer- 
ing. I tell you plainly, Valmeau, if Marie Lascour 
comes here, she shall be treated fairly, and you 
must be careful what you do.” 

“Then you believe this pretty little story of her 
marriage ? ” 

“ Of course I do. By some trickery, she lost the 
marriage-script, and like a brave woman she comes 
to follow the man she loves. I hope he may be 
safe, and if so, he shall meet the girl whom he left 
behind him.” 

“Well, as you think. I dorCt believe the story, 
and I envy him his pretty mistress. The man is 
gone as a mark for Russian bullets, before this 
time, and as one foundling is enough at a time, 
Marie may find a substitute.” 

“ In -whom, pray ? ” 

“Louis Valmeau, lieutenant in Captain Maurice 
Fusil’s company.” 

“ Then you are a snow-storm foundling, too ? ” 
sarcastically returned Fusil. “You manufacture 


A BIVOUAC QUAEEEL. 


183 


incidents with a ready wit, it seems, Lieutenant 
Louis Valmeau.” 

“ Why no — but I’ll let you into my biography 
if you like. I am the foundling of a warmer place 
than wayside snow-drifts, but I know as little of 
my birth or parentage as Niege ; he was a waif of 
the snow-storm, and I was the waif of a foundling 
hospital.” 

And the waif of the foundling hospital, as he 
called himself, looked marvellously handsome, sit- 
ting there in the cold, steady moonlight, the rays re- 
flected on his gaudy uniform, and his upturned face. 
As he threw the ashes down before him, and looked 
up squarely into Fusil’s face with an impudent air 
of self-satisfaction, he continued : 

“ Yes, of a hospital. Some one found me in the 
way, I suppose, and I was placed for safe-keeping 
in the box at the Convent St. Angelo, in the dis- 
trict of Toulouse. I suppose I ought to have died 
to have pleased that someone, but I didn’t. I grew r 
up, and found my education somewhere near the 
Spanish borders.” 

“And the name, ‘Valmeau,’ where does that 
cc me from ? ” 

“ It was the name of a Marseilles carpenter, in 
whose house I found a home under an apprentice- 
ship) from the convent priests. I have a package 
of musty papers somewhere for a pedigree, and 
that tells the whole story.” 

The avowal was a curious one to Fusil. His 


184 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


interest in his own affairs was the heaviest, however. 
Valmeau was in possession of a dangerous secret, 
from whom, he knew not, but he felt that there 
was trouble brewing, and he thought he had seen 
the premonitory symptoms of a serious difficulty. 
There was something hidden too deep for his dis- 
cernment in the story which Valmeau had humored 
himself by telling. 

“ You see, captain, I shall prove a substitute ; at 
least Marie Lascour shall have an early chance to 
refuse me, and you shall not interfere ! ” 

• “Shall not, lieutenant? You have heard my 
words, and on the honor of a soldier, I will stand 
to them. Once and for all, I say, no trickery with 
Marie Niege.” 

“Lascour, captain,” interrupted Valmeau. “I 
choose to use the maiden name.” 

“ And I choose to say Marie Niege.” 

“ Time enough to settle that when she is here.” 

“ Yes, when she is here, Louis Valmeau. And 
that I will prevent.” 

Valmeau started to his feet and threw the camp- 
stool back from him. He was hot-blooded and 
hot-tempered, and the pretty face of the Alsatian 
peasant girl had haunted him ever since he had 
seen her on the day of the conscription in Alsace. 
This evening he had been indulging in fanciful 
dreams about her which were now dissipated by 
the prospect of Fusil’s interference. 

“ My commission on it then, that you will not ! 


A BIVOUAC QUARREL. 


185 


One word to her of Pierre Niege, and there will be 
a vacant captaincy for me, Maurice Fusil ! On the 
honor of a soldier, I will keep my word ! ” 

“Then she shall know it. Your fancy of the 
ribbon story is a good invention, but a weak one. 
If Marie comes here, she shall meet with no insult 
at your hands, for I will stand between you.” 

“It is open war between us, then, Fusil? You 
would not dare to tell it ! Enough of this ! I want 
that woman, and I mean to have her ; and as for 
Pierre Niege — ” 

Their conversation was interrupted by an alarm 
outside. A messenger from headquarters, with a 
dispatch from the colonel, which Fusil read, and 
handed to Yalmeau, as the soldier who had brought 
it rode away, dashing his spurs deep into his horse’s 
sides. 

“An attack to-morrow on the Russian lines. 
Well, perhaps there may be no one left to make 
love to the pretty Marie,” said Yalmeau. “We 
are to have hot work before we capture Dantzic. 
Come, a contract with you, captain; will you 
pledge yourself to silence ? ” 

“No; I have pledged myself to protect Marie 
Niege from you, and I will do it,” silently replied 
Fusil. “I make no bargains with so great a 
coward.” 

Fusil spoke quickly, too quickly for his own 
good, and he saw the error. But Yalmeau was 
cool, deliberate, and persistent. 


18G 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ Hard words, my captain, and unbecoming in a 
soldier. You will not aid me ? then I will aid 
myself. One word to Marie of her husband’s 
death in Dantzic, and the story of the ribbon shall 
be told, even to the ears of the Emperor. You 
know the consequences ! ” 

“ Tell it then, and now. To-night, if it pleases 
you. It may as well be a drawn fight between us 
now before the worst arrives. Marie Hiege, you 
say, had no proof of marriage. You have no proof 
of any story you may tell of me ! ” 

“Ho proof, Fusil? Take care, my failure would 
be worse to me than any truth I might tell of you. 
There is no time to parley. A fair field for the 
girl’s love is all I ask, and you must give it. I will 
produce my witness when I tell the story, never 
fear.” 

“A witness of your treachery to the man you 
have betrayed ? ” 

“ Ho ; to the treachery, as a soldier, of my worthy 
captain. I know the story from its best narrator, 
and a man you counted on for silence — M. Jean 
Duprez, of Canton Alsace ! Will you promise 
now ? ” 

There was no reply. Fusil was silent, and 
Valmeau perplexed, for he had spoken the name 
merely at a venture ; so their little quarrel ended 
for the night. 


A SINGLE KAY OF SUNSHINE. 


187 


CHAPTER XVII. 

A SINGLE KAY OF SUNSHINE. 

Marching with the soldiers, pressing along towards 
the front, weary and footsore, Marie Lascour, 
vivandiere , had found life at the camp all but 
unendurable. Positions and commands were chang- 
ed incessantly, but all her inquiries for Fusil’s regi- 
ment had resulted in no news of Pierre, except that 
he had been in the fight at Preuss-Eylau, and had 
not since been heard of among the men. 

A heavy column had rested one day at nightfall 
after a long march, and Marie was with them, 
waiting orders. 

“ Good news to-day, vivandiere ,” said the gruff 
old sergeant of her company, as he passed her; she 
stood by the line of wagons, gazing upon the 
moving mass of men and animals, with her pale, 
sad face turned towards the dusty road before them. 
“ Good news to-day — hard fighting, but a victory ! 
Hantzic is taken.” 

“Yes, sergeant, so I hear. But I fear there is 
no news for me. Have you heard anything ? ” 


188 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


She had told her story to the grey-haired soldier, 
and he had helped her all that he could in seeking 
information from the front, and she always felt his 
presence a protection. 

“ Nothing, vivandiere , that lightens your sorrow. 
If your husband was with the men who captured 
Dantzic, he has had work enough to do. But tell 
me, have you had no letter from him ? ” 

“Only two. And then they told me he was 
dead. Duprez told us the story, and he proved it 
by a man who came back from the army.” 

“So you think that he is really gone? You 
believe the story of this Jean Duprez?” 

“ Duprez’s story I know to be false, but I have 
no knowledge of Pierre ; to be sure I feel in my 
heart that he is yet alive. But where ? This life 
is killing me, my friend, and I may never reach 
him. Hark ! what is that ? ” 

There was a rushing sound of horses feet as the 
bugles sounded, and amid a cloud of dust, a general 
and his staff came up, their gay uniforms flashing, 
and their mettled chargers throwing the dust and 
sand into the faces of the soldier and the vivandiere . 

“ There is no hope for me, I fear, sergeant, and 
I am weary, oh, so weary of this life ! I am alone, 
even in the camp. I cannot bear this constant 
whispering around me, and the women give me no 
companionship. Excepting you and Franz, I am 
alone, forsaken, and with nothing to cheer me but 
a hope of that which may never come.” 


A SINGLE KAY OF SUNSHINE. 


189 


They were good friends, the old sergeant and 
the vivandiere. The soldier had seen much service, 
and he knew the story of the persecutions and 
troubles which drove her away from home and 
Alsace. The watching, waiting, and the marching 
which she had undergone, were, in a measure, 
lightened by the man’s companionship ; and she 
seemed to look to him for sympathy and help. 

“ It is a hard life for you, Marie,” he said, as 
sitting down beside one of the wagons, he took a 
biscuit from his jiouch, broke it, and gave her a 
part. “You are not like the rest, and so you find 
no friends among the women. This is no place 
for you, my child, no place for you.” 

The soldier told the truth. But for the hope to 
which she clung, she would have fled from her 
position long ago. She carried the canteen, and 
followed after the silken flags, but she was no fit 
companion for the vivandieres who were marching 
towards Napoleon. While they were careless of 
every trouble save a present one, she was a vivan- 
diere in duty, not in spirit. She gave water to the 
tired and fainting soldier, and wine to the wounded, 
of which there were so many, but she moved among 
them as a shadow, with no general interest in the 
camp. When the circle around the camp-fires rang 
with the wit, the repartee, the double entendre , and 
the campaign song, she stood aloof from the free 
and careless crowd, and waited, watched, and 


190 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


prayed for the end to come, that she might find 
her search successful, or know the worst. 

Franz, too, was a burthen to her. He had fol- 
lowed her to the war because Lisette had sent him, 
and led an easy, roaming life about the camp. He 
seemed to love her with all his foolish ways, and 
followed her about quite like a servant, finding a 
few friends among the men, and doing the general 
camp work for the slight compensation of an extra 
ration, a chance to ride inside a wagon, or the 
privilege of creeping beneath the shelter-tent when 
the march of the day was over. 

He was coming towards them now, with an 
armful of straw for which some teamster had sent 
him. He stopped as he saw Marie, and, thought- 
less of the errand upon which he had been sent, 
threw down his load, and stretched himself out at 
full length upon it. 

“ There’s a lot of wagons coming, Marie,” he 
said, pointing down the road. “ And there’s lots 
of men lying on straw inside them ; that’s what 
we’ve all been waiting for.” 

“ Wounded men from Dantzic, I suppose. There 
will be work for you now, Marie. Come, let’s see 
these men ; we may learn something about your 
husband,” said the sergeant, rising. 

A heavy sigh was the only answer, and together 
they went away towards the newly arrived train 
of wagons, leaving Franz lying on his bundle of 
straw looking after them. 

O 


A SINGLE KAY OF SUNSHINE. 


191 


There was indeed work for the vivandieres ; the 
first of the wounded had reached the reserve 
division, and there were soft hands needed for the 
weary men who were so faint and exhausted from 
the rough jolting over uneven roads. 

“ On duty, vivandiere f ” 

She turned towards one of the staff officers who 
had dismounted, and was arranging the wagons 
for the day’s halt. He was bending over a wound- 
ed comrade, and looked up at her as she saluted 
him, and awaited orders. 

“Where is your company ? Is this one of your 
sergeants ? ” he said, pointing to the veteran who 
stood near her. 

“We are at the rear of the column, captain,” 
replied the soldier. “ Can I do anything ? ” 

“Report to your captain that your vivandiere 
is ordered on hospital duty here. Follow me, and 
quickly, vivandiere / ” 

It was a sad sight which met her eyes, as they 
moved along between the wagons. Pale, wan, 
careworn faces looked out at her as she passed, 
and eyes which were dim with continued pain 
looked supplicatingly towards them, as vivandiere 
and officer stood in the passage-way between the 
line of wounded. 

“You are a good nurse, vivandiere?” inquired 
the captain, turning to her as she waited his in- 
structions — “you are used to the work of the 
hospitals ? ” 


192 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ I am not afraid to do my part, captain, what- 
ever it may be. Where shall I commence ? I am 
only waiting orders.” 

A couple of wagons guarded by mounted soldiers 
were coming around the turn of the road, and 
halted at the extremity of the line while one of the 
soldiers rode up to the officer in charge. 

“ There are four officers badly wounded, in our 
wagons, captain, what shall we do with them ? ” 

“Stay where you are. I will attend to them. 
Come, vivandiere / ” 

The captain moved away towards the newly 
arrived wounded, followed by Marie, the soldiers 
standing aside and saluting as they passed. 

Beneath the canvas covering, stretched upon 
camp-beds, were a dozen soldiers with several 
commissioned officers among them. They were 
faint from their long journey, and one of them, 
who lay upon his side, turned his face wearily 
upward as Marie approached. 

“ Wine or brandy, vivandiere ! ” he murmured, 
extending his pale hand towards her. “ Easy, 
please, upon my side.” 

He uttered a suppressed groan, and turned partly 
over, then sank back upon the bed, gasping from 
the exertion. 

The sufferer seemed greatly overcome; and 
assisted by the captain, Marie took the head of the 
wounded man in her lap, and brushed the hair 


A SINGLE BAY OF SUNSHINE. 


193 


back from his throbbing temples, bathing his pale 
forehead with the liquor from her canteen,. 

“ Can you drink this, captain ? ” she asked, fill- 
ing the little cup chained to her waist, and putting 
it to his lips. “ It is brandy, and will do you good. 
Please try, sir, a mouthful only, if no more ! ” 

As she spoke, she held the liquor to his lips. 
He raised his hand slowly, clasping her soft fingers 
tenderly, in his eagerness to taste the brandy, and 
feebly swallowed a few mouthfuls. 

“Your hand is soft, vivandiere , and oh, so 
gentle ! You women are our angels when we’re 
sick ! ” he said. 

It was a pretty compliment, perhaps, but she 
did not heed it. She had too much upon her mind 
to heed the easy words of the wounded officer, w T ho, 
true to the instinct of his gallantry, could say 
pretty things to pretty women, even while in pain. 

She parted the heavy masses of hair upon his 
forehead, and passed her hand lightly over it ; then 
with a sigh, she put the cup aside, and sat down 
beside the bed. 

“You are sighing, vivandiere \ for what, my 
pretty one ? — your lover ? ” 

“ Perhaps a lover, captain, may be, a husband.” 

The wounded man, by a strong effort, raised 
himself upon his arm and looked at her with a 
steady, searching gaze. She shrank from the keen 
look of inquiry which he bent upon her, and turned 
her head aside. 


194 


PUT TO THE TEST 


“ Your husband ? ” he repeated slowly. “ Where 
is he, vivandiere — in the ranks of the grand 
army ? ” 

“He was, captain, but now God only knows 
where he may be ! ” 

She tried to conceal her agitation, and covered 
her eyes with her hand for a moment to conceal 
the tears which had started as she spoke. Then 
she resumed her former listless attitude, her hands 
folded upon each other, and her head bent low 
upon her breast. 

“You do not know me, Marie?” 

She started from her lethargy, and looked at him 
through her tears. The sudden mention of her 
name almost alarmed her. 

“No,” she answered slowly, “I do not know 
you, yet you have called me by a name I thought 
I left behind me when I fled from Alsace.” 

“ j Fled from Alsace, vivandiere ? ” Why did you 
leave it, pray ? ” 

“Because they robbed me of my husband.” 

“ His name, vivandiere — I may know the man.” 

“ Private soldier, Pierre Niege.” 

The tone in which she spoke brought tears to 
the eyes of the wounded man, for it told of that 
“ hope deferred ” which “ maketh the heart sick.” 
She trembled as she spoke the name, and then in 
accents rendered unsteady by emotion, whispered : 
“ You know him, captain ? ” 

“ Yes, Marie Lascour, I once knew Pierre Niege, 


A SINGLE RAY OF SUNSHINE. 


195 


a stout, manly fellow, full of fire, and daring to a 
fault. He served with me. Look down at me, 
Marie — do you not recognize me? I am Captain 
Maurice Fusil ! ” 

Starting with joy, she caught his hand and 
kissed it rapturously. Then covering her face with 
her hands, she sobbed aloud. 

“And you have travelled all this way to seek 
him, Marie ? Poor child, you are a brave and 
loving wife indeed ! ” 

“ Brave only in that love, captain. But tell me, — 
where is my husband— where is private Pierre 
Niege ? ” 

“ Marie, I do not know.” 

A sensation of faintness came over her, but with 
a strong effort she recovered herself, and sank upon 
her knees beside Fusil. 

“You do not know? ” she cried, in the peculiar, 
despairing tone of one who feels some awful news 
impending, and finds a sudden, deceptive strength 
in the desperation of the moment. “Tell me, 
captain, tell me all, the worst, if it must be. 
Great Heaven, aid me — is he dead ? ” 

“ Marie,” said the captain with a world of pity 
in his tone, “your husband went to Dantzic and 
he has not been heard of since.” 

She gave him one look of utter despair, and her 
eyes remained, for a moment, fixed upon his face. 
Then, with a sharp, quick cry of agony, she 
clutched at the canvas of the shelter tent, and 


196 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


hung, swaying from it, too and fro, breaking out 
in sobs. 

There was a sudden rush towards her, and among 
the soldiers who came flocking to her side, a moppy 
head was thrust, and Franz sprang inside the tent. 

“ What has he done, Marie ? Who was it — the 
soldier lying there ? ” 

His eyes glared wildly, as he spoke, and he ap- 
proached Fusil, raising his clenched fist as if to 
strike him. 

He would have executed the threat which his 
action implied, if Fusil had not caught the eye of 
one of the guards, and quickly motioned him to 
his defense. 

There was a struggle, lasting scarcely a moment, 
and the boy was dragged away, still fighting with 
his captors, and glancing angrily back at Fusil. 
Then, in their stout arms, the soldiers bore Marie 
Lascour away, with her hands outstretched implor- 
ingly, towards the wounded captain, just as she had 
held them out to him, when Pierre Niege had been 
hurried away from Alsace. 


A RUSSIAN PRISONER. 


197 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

A RUSSIAN PRISONER. 

While the men wounded at the attack on Dant- 
zic were being sent to the rear, Napoleon, flushed 
with the victory which he had achieved in the face 
of the beleaguered town, began his preparation for 
a renewal of the contest. He hoped to place himself 
in the field with an army which, augmented by all 
his reenforcements, would number not less than 
three hundred thousand men. It was a game of 
hazard he was playing. The Russian general, re- 
lying upon the assistance promised from England, 
had been pressing Ney, who sought a base of sup- 
ply at Gustadt, and who found himself, a fortnight 
after the capture of the town, without a place 
where he could make a stand, which, from its de- 
fensive position, would ensure success. Sitting 
around the table, on which lights were brightly 
burning, and upon which lay scattered a roll of 
campaign maps, and what there was left of a rather 
extravagant camp-supper, wereDavoust and his staff. 
The grim old marshal had, for once during the 


198 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


pendancy of the campaign laid aside his brusque- 
ness with his sword, and held a well-filled glass to 
the light which shone from the clustered candles, 
holding meanwhile free conversation with his offi- 
cers. 

The men all loved their chief, and their attach- 
ment grew, notwithstanding his impetuous, fiery 
nature, for beneath the weatherstained garb of the 
veteran, there beat a noble heart, true as steel 
towards those who were loyal to him, and loyal 
towards the cause, if not the exacting will, of 
Napoleon. 

“ Well, general, what next ? ” was the inquiry of 
Jules St. Cyr, a dashing cavalry colonel, as he filled 
his pipe from the pouch lying among the scattered 
dishes. “We have taken Dantzic, and the Rus- 
sians are at work gathering their reenforcements. 
When are we to move, I wonder ? ” 

“ When it suits the pleasure of the Emperor, 
Colonel St. Cyr ! ” was the calm reply of the 
imperturbable marshal. 

The wine had been drained to its dregs, and the 
rebuke, though a severe one, had vanished with 
the bubble from the champagne in the marshal’s 
glass. 

It was a lazy week in the campaign, this glorious 
week in May. The work of the camp-life was the 
dull routine of an overworked division, and Davoust 
was silent as the grave concerning his own plans 
or those of his commander. The officers around 


A RUSSIAN PRISONER. 


199 


him felt that their dinner was over, and one by 
one they dropped out and away from the tent, 
leaving the general alone. 

All had gone except St. Cyr, and he had just 
taken up his sword and bade his chief good night, 
when the cold, callous tone of command from 
Davoust called him back to the table. 

“The Russian' prisoner, St. Cyr — are the prepara- 
tions made for to-morrow ? ” 

“ All, general, except the approval of the warrant, 
and that is here, ready for your signature.” 

He took the paper from the camp desk which 
stood near the table, and passed it to the marshal, 
with a pen, holding the paper that Davoust might 
sign the order for the execution. 

“He is under close guard, colonel ?” asked the 
marshal, pausing, as he put pen to paper, and look- 
ing up thoughtfully into the face of the expectant 
officer. 

“ Under close guard, general. I picked the men 
myself.” 

“ Let them bring the fellow here to me, at once.” 

To hear was to obey with those under the orders 
of Davoust, and with a salutation, the colonel with- 
drew upon his errand, leaving the marshal nervous- 
ly pacing to and fro, awaiting the appearance of 
the prisoner. 

A spy, at least a suspected one, had been cap- 
tured by the outposts, and had been wounded in 
his attempt to escape. He was sullen and morose, 


200 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


doggedly indifferent to his fate, it seemed, and 
after a short examination, he had been condemned 
by Davoust to be shot at sunrise. 

For once, the stern-browed veteran had paused 
before the execution of the sentence, and he 
awaited the return of St. Cyr with ill-concealed 
impatience. 

The steady tramp of soldiers soon sounded upon 
the hard ground without the tent. Then there 
were the muffled orders of the sergeant, and the 
men filed, singly, into the presence of the general, 
with the prisoner leaning upon the arm of one of 
the soldiers, halting before the table at which 
Davoust had seated himself, first motioning St. Cyr 
to take a vacant stool beside him. 

The man was a stout-built, downcast looking 
fellow, who was evidently suffering from a wound 
in his leg, for through the tightly-bound bandages, 
bright drops of blood oozed at every movement. 

“ Give him a stool, sergeant ! ” said the general, 
“ and one of you stand by him,” 

He motioned imperatively for the rest of the 
soldiers to withdraw, and as they vanished from 
his sight, he turned sharply to the prisoner : 

“ Your name ? ” 

“ My name is of little interest to any one, general. 
Let it die with me to-morrow.” There was a tone 
of quiet resignation in the man’s reply. 

“Well, have it so. But tell me, to what service 


A RUSSIAN PRISONER. 


201 


did you belong. Were you with Benningsen’s 
division ? ” 

“ Yes, with General Benningsen, at Preuss-Eylau.” 

“ Then you have been in all the actions with the 
French, of late ? ” 

“ Yes, all of them.” 

The man bent his head low down upon his 
breast, hiding his face beneath the shock of frouzy 
auburn hair which, in unkempt masses fell over his 
brow. The long brown beard upon his cheek was 
tangled, and matted as if with blood from a sabre 
cut, not wholly healed. 

“ Then you must have known their plans. What 
were they ? ” 

“Do not the French know the result, general? 
Is not that enough ? ” 

He raised his eyes as he spoke, and looked 
calmly at the marshal. There was something 
strange, almost unearthly in the look with which 
he encountered the steady gaze of the French 
general, and both Davoust and St. Cyr saw it, and 
exchanged glances with each other. 

“ You have some secret, prisoner. What would 
you be willing to tell me, if your life could be made 
the price of it ? ” 

“ Nothing, nothing,” he replied, sadly. “ I have 
no other wish than to die to-morrow.” 

“Then it is a secret of your own — some sorrow? 
You seem a brave fellow, and it is hard to die as 
you must die to-morrow at daybreak.” 


202 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“I shall hardly count the hours till sunrise, 
general. I have nothing to tell you, I have told 
you all.” 

“ Stubborn, general, to the last,” whispered 
St. Cyr. 

A look from Davoust silenced any further words, 
and the general continued : 

“You were long in Dantzic before the capture?” 

“ A few days only.” 

“You knew the plans of the French to take the 
place ? ” 

“ Knew of them, every one, and more.” 

“What more? Give me all the information 
which you have, and I will suspend the sentence.” 

“ Not if it could save a thousand lives. I do 
not value life, general, I would welcome death 
to-night, if you could give it me. Your men have 
searched me — did they not find my papers ? ” 

“Yes, but they were incomplete. You know 
more than you have told us, and you have sent your 
information to the enemy.” 

The prisoner staggered to his feet, and tore open 
the rough jacket that he wore and pointed to his 
breast, reaching to the table for a knife which lay 
upon the empty plate before him. 

St. Cyr sprang to his feet, but the marshal 
reached forward and touched his arm, allowing the 
man to take the keen edged knife, and with it 
to cut the lining from his coat. 

“You have there the rest, which your men could 


A RUSSIAN PRISONER. 


203 


not find. It is of no further use to me ! ” exclaimed 
the soldier, tossing at his feet a package of close- 
folded paper. “ Now let me die at sunrise, and 
end a life that I am so glad to give away.” 

He sank back upon the stool, weak from his 
wound, and Davoust himself picked up the paper. 

It was soiled and well-worn, and Davoust un- 
folded it and spread it out upon the table, while 
St. Cyr held down the candle to aid the general in 
his examination. 

The face of the marshal turned to a deep crimson 
as he read it ; then he motioned the sergeant to 
leave them alone, and without comment passed 
the paper to St. Cyr ; while the colonel examined 
it, he again addressed the prisoner : 

“ Where did you get this paper ? I know it 
welL It is a plan of action which I gave to an 
officer I sent to Dantzic. Man, you are worse than 
a spy ; you have robbed the dead ! ” 

“ No, general. You gave these papers to one of 
your own officers. I know the man, Lieutenant 
Yalmeau, an officer in Captain Fusil’s company — 
the man you sent to Dantzic, and who returned.” 

“ But his comrade, the private soldier whom he 
took with him. He died in Dantzic ! ” 

“ The lieutenant left him there to die, and per- 
haps the Russians deal with spies as you would 
deal with me. Those papers are not stolen.” 

“But you have kept them* and the man who 
gave them to you — ” 


204 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“Was the man who left his comrade within the 
Russian lines, and found his own way out of Dant- 
zic, reaching the camp in safety.” 

“ True ; then you know the history of that 
service.” 

“ Better than the general who sent the men 
away. But one came back to you, the other — ” 

“Well, the other ! — what of him? We think he 
has been shot ; is that not so ? ” 

The man raised himself again, and staggered 
towards the table, pointing to the paper and lean- 
ing feebly upon the roll of maps lying at the 
general’s hand. He looked steadily at the marshal 
before he spoke. Then, throwing upon the cloth 
a fragment of burned paper which he had taken 
trom his coat, he passed his hand across his fore- 
head, and swaying for a moment, fell, fainting to 
the floor. 

St. Cyr raised him, and put a glass of liquor to 
his lips. 

He pushed it aside, however, and with a hurried 
movement of his left hand, tore from his head the 
mass of shocky hair, disclosing beneath the disguise 
which he had used, the short, black hair of a man 
much younger than he had seemed. 

“I did not steal those papers, general. They 
were given me by your lieutenant when we were 
at Dantzic. I am Private Pierre Niege ! ” 


A DISCOVERY. 


205 


CHAPTER XIX. 

A DISCOVERY. 

“ You had no quarrel after all, you say ? ” 

The inquiry was made by Gaston, landlord of 
the Traveler’s Rest, and the person to whom it 
was made was Gaspard Jarorne, his customer. 

“ I said the affair was none of yours. If Jean 
Duprez quarrels with me, he has a right to do so, 
and the affair is his and mine only,” replied Gaspard, 
snappishly, stepping out from the doorway into 
the early morning sunlight. 

Gaston saw that his guest was ill-humored, so 
he deemed it best to evade censure by a few words 
of apology. ^ 

“ Curiosity, Gaspard, that’s all. I have so often 
wondered why you left Duprez, you were such old 
friends, you know.” 

“ Then credit me on my reckoning with all the 
curiosity is worth, and ask me no more questions.” 

He turned away from the landlord suddenly, 
and walked leisurely down the road, leaving Gas- 
ton standing in the doorway. 


206 


PUT 10 THE TEST. 


“ A queer fellow,” the inn-keeper said to himself, 
as Gaspard walked slowly away. “ I wonder 
what the mischief is between them.” 

It is fair to say that many others in the village 
wondered quite as much as Gaston what the trouble 
was between Gaspard Jarome and Master Jean 
Duprez. For several weeks he had lived at the 
inn. The day following the disappearance of the 
idiot boy Franz, Gaspard came down to the inn 
and took lodgings. He brought nothing with him 
but a single chest made of rough wood and iron- 
bound, and the day after his induction into his new 
abode, Jean Duprez came to see him. 

They were closeted in Gaspard’s room until late 
in the evening. No one knew what passed between 
them during their protracted interview. When it 
was nearly midnight, they came down into the 
tap-room where some few soldiers were still sitting, 
drank a bottle of wine in company, and then went 
away together. Gaspard came back after a few 
moments, lighted his pipe, sat for an hour or more 
smoking, and that was all that any one knew about 
it. 

He was by no means extravagant in his living, 
but he was prompt in his payments to Gaston, so 
the landlord humored his caprices, and whenever 
J ean Duprez came to the inn and chanced to meet 
Gaspard, he watched them. 

But it was a useless task, this watching. He 
learned nothing ; and though others in the village 


A DISCOVERT. 


207 


watched them, it was always with the same result ; 
the more they watched the more they wondered, 
and the more they wondered, the less they knew 
about the two men. 

On the occasion alluded to at the opening of this 
chapter, Gaspard walked slowly from the village 
inn, and down the narrow road towards the valley. 
He looked carelessly around for a few moments, 
and then, out of Gaston’s sight, sat down upon the 
stone fence by the roadside as if to wait for some 
one. / 

“ Confound the woman ! ” he muttered, as the 
peasants began to pass along the road towards the 
mountains. “ I wonder why she keeps me waiting.” 

He lighted his pipe as if for companionship, and 
then walked to and fro while smoking. 

The woman to whom he alluded in his ejacula- 
tion was Lisette ; and growing tired of monoto- 
nously pacing up and down, he lazily strolled along 
keeping his eyes fixed upon a dilapidated cottage 
which stood a little distance from the road. No 
one came to meet him, however, so he crossed the 
open space between the pathway and the cottage 
door, and knocked. 

The little hooded window was opened cautiously, 
and the pale, tired face of old Lisette peered at 
him for a moment. She said nothing, but closed 
the’ window quickly and noiselessly and then un- 
barred the door. 

Gaspard laid his pipe down upon the doorstep, 


208 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


and stepped into the room ; it was a poorly fur- 
nished apartment into which the door opened ; a 
fire was burning upon the stone hearth, and a 
kettle simmered upon the hook which swung above 
the fire. 

“ How is she to-day ? Better or worse ? ” 

The woman put her finger to her lips, stepped 
carefully across the room, and closed the door 
leading to the adjoining chamber. 

“ She is sleeping now, but all night long she has 
been out of her mind. I dared not leave her.” 

Lisette brushed her hair back from her forehead 
and tucked it behind her ears, with that weary 
movement of the hands that speaks so plainly of 
the long, tiresome night-watch, and of the pale 
rays of early dawn stealing through closed shutters 
upon heavy eyelids that have known no rest. The 
fresh air of the early morning seemed to revive 
her, and she inhaled it eagerly for a moment ; then 
seating herself upon the doorstep, she motioned to 
Gaspard that he should place himself beside her. 

“ There is no chance for the poor woman, Gas- 
pard,” she said, as the two sat down together. 
“ She has been talking of Marie ever since mid- 
night, till she talked herself to sleep. Has Duprez 
come back ? ” 

“ He has not been at the inn. But he will bring 
no news to her when he does return, Lisette, you 
may be sure of that.” 


A DISCOVERY. 


209 


The wpman indulged in a yawn, and then nodded 
in reply. , ... 

She had been nursing Madame Julie Lascour for 
several days, and the woman whom she had spoken 
of as wandering in her mind was Marie’s poor 
mother. Giving way at length beneath the weight 
of her great sorrow, the widow’s life had for the 
last few hours hung \ trembling in the balance 

between life and dissolution. All the attention 

4 1 ■ $ 

which Lisettp could give her was of no avail. She 
knew that JVfarip was somewhere with the army, 
but she had no news of Pierre, and she mourned inces- 
santly for her daughter and foster child. Even 
Duprez at the last seemed to have relented. He 
had permitted Lisette to nurse the sick woman, 
and he himself, had started for the headquarters of 
the corps-commander in a distant Canton, ostensibly 
to learn something, of Marie Lascour, and bring 
the tidings back to ease the mind of Madame Julie. 

As the man and woman sat silent and watchful 
waiting for the invalid to wake, there was a hollow, 
ringing cough from the sick-chamber, and a faint 
voice was heard cabling fo Lisette. 

“ Come in and see her,” she whispered to Gas- 
pard as she rose to respond, and together they 
entered the room ,in which the suffering woman 
l a y* 1 m 

“You are back again?” she asked, “you have 
found my child,? There are two of you now, and 
one of you must be Jean Puprez.” 


210 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


She attempted to raise herself as she spoke, but 
fell back exhausted on the pillow, so Lisette passed 
her arm beneath her and partly raised her, saying 
as she did so ; 

“ It is Gaspard. Duprez has not come back.” 

“Not come — not come — my poor child, oh, my 
poor child ! ” exclaimed the widow ; and then her 
head fell suddenly to one side, and she passed off 
again into her troubled sleep. 

“ She has been just so ever since midnight,” said 
Lisette, “ talking only of Marie. She cannot last 
much longer.” 

“Better that she should die than know the 
worst,” replied Gaspard. “Poor woman, she has 
little left to live for ! ” 

Lisette laid the sick woman gently back upon 
the pillows, and then placed her hand upon Gas- 
pard’s arm. She looked quietly and anxiously into 
his face, and then in a low tone, speaking slowly, 
she remarked : 

“You know more of this, Gaspard Jarome, than 
you are telling me. What is it, man ? speak out. 
The woman there will not hear you, and I ought 
to know, I think.” 

“ Then Duprez has not told you of the rumors ? ” 

“ He has told me nothing. He only said that he 
would find Marie, and told Julie that he was going 
for that purpose.” 

Gaspard could not suppress a wicked smile. He 
saw a part of the lying plan of Duprez’s own mak- 


A DISCOVERY. 


211 


ing up, in his presumed errand in the widow’s 
service. 

“ He will not find her, then. There is news that 
he has had two days or more, that Dantzic is taken, 
and that the name of Fusil, the captain who was 
here on the day of the conscription, is among the 
wounded."’ 

“ But Pierre Niege, is there any news of him ? ” 

“ One of the soldiers said he went away to 
Dantzic on some secret service, and did not come 
back. The man is dead long ago, Lisette ; perhaps 
the story which Duprez whispered into Marie’s ear 
may have had more truth in it than he imagined.” 

“ God help the widow, then ! ” was all that 
Lisette said, and she stood by the bedside watching 
the sleeping woman, whose hands, pale and thin 
from her long sickness, lay upon the coverlid, the 
fingers clutching nervously. 

Suddenly Lisette bent down to listen. She 
turned just a little pale, and motioned Gaspard to 
come nearer. 

The dying woman was breathing heavily and 
with great labor, and her bosom rose and fell 
spasmodically, while her lips were very white, and 
cold beads of perspiration stood upon her forehead. 

“ It will soon be over,” whispered Gaspard to 
her. “We had better try to rouse her from this 
sleep.” 

Obedient to the man’s suggestion, Lisette raised 
the widow in her arms. For a moment her eyes 


212 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


opened, and then closed again. Then, with a 
vacant stare, she looked at them. 

“ Pierre — Marie — my poor, poor child,” was all 
she said, and pointed to the open door leading in- 
to the next room. 

“ Shall I close it, Julie? ” asked Gaspard, notic- 
ing her movement. 

She nodded a feeble acquiescence in reply to his 
question, and he stepped lightly across the room 
and closed the door. 

“ Duprez will come too late, Lisette, too late ! ” 
she said, taking the woman’s hand and pressing it 
slowly to her lips. “But you are kind to me. 
You, too, Gaspard, you come to see me often.” 

They almost held their breaths to hear her words, 
for she was very weak, and spoke in broken accents. 
But the phrenzy of the long, weary night had 
passed away, her reason had resumed its sway, 
perhaps just before the end of all must come to 
her, and she would need but little help from either 
of the watchers. 

“ You must be hopeful, Julie ; Marie will come 
back to you. No news is good news, you know, 
and Duprez may be here soon. He told you he 
would hurry back to-day,” said Lisette, slowly. 

“ Yes— to-day — but it will be too late. I know 
that I am dying. I shall never see my child 
again ! ” 

She was very weak, and they put a spoonful 
of the wine and brandy gruel which Lisette had 


A DISCOVERY. 


213 


made, to her pale lips. She put it away, however, 
and pointed to a chest which stood in one corner 
of the narrow room, passing her hand to her neck 
and snatching asunder a silver chain which she 
had always worn. 

There were a couple of consecrated charms upon 
it, and the key of the lock upon the chest. 

“ Quick, Lisette — the box — I want it.” 

She motioned feebly to Gaspard to open it, and 
Gaspard knelt beside the old chest, and turning 
the key in the lock, raised the lid. 

It contained a few articles of clothing, and a 
common wooden box, which he handed to Lisette. 

u I may not see my child, Lisette, but this is 
hers. Give it to her, and tell her it is all of Pierre 
that she may ever know.” 

She would have spoken again, but her words 
were feeble ; and so they laid her back upon the 
pillow, and opened the box which had no lock upon 
it, but was fastened with a buckskin thong, tied 
over and around it. 

There was a child’s cloak folded up and carefully 
packed inside the box. It was old, and worn, and 
faded, but it was folded neatly in its place, and 
with it was a lock of light, sunny hair, tied with a 
ribbon, and wrapped inside a fragment of a hand- 
kerchief. These, and nothing more was what the 
box contained. 

They took the cloak from the box and spread it 
out upon the bed, laying the lock of hair beside it. 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


21 i 

Gaspard unfolded the flannel garment, looking at 
the widow, who seemed unconscious of their 
presence. 

Suddenly he started, and his face grew almost as 
pale as the invalid’s, and his hand shook nervously. 
He took the cloak up in his hands and looked at it, 
then held it towards the light. 

“Lisette, Lisette, look here — you see that piece 
of work there in the corner ; do you know it, 
woman ? ” 

Julie was quiet, apparently asleep, and so Lisette 
left her, and with Gaspard, went towards the 
window. 

There was a partly obliterated piece of silk 
embroidery upon the corner of the cloak, and that 
was all. She passed the flannel back to him. 

“ It is only a bit of woman’s work,” she said. 
“ Part of a letter ‘ P ’ it seems — what of it ? ” 

“ Enough, Lisette, enough ; that work and crest 
is old and worn, but it tells a story you and I 
should know. Ask Julie what it means ? ” 

“ Why ask the dying woman what she cannot 
tell ? I don’t see what it is that seems so strange 
to you. A letter only is all that I can see.” 

“Then look again,” he said, putting the cloak 
back into her hands as they stood by the bedside 
of the sleeping widow, “you see nothing like a 
crest ? ” 

“ Why yes, there are the lines, and here in one 


A DISCOVERY. 


215 


corner, part of a shield worked in the flannel with 
the finest silk.” 

“ A crest indeed — the same that you and I have 
seen so often on the castle walls. The boy who 
had that cloak about him is one whom we thought 
dead. ’Twas Philiippe De Briennes ! ” 

Lisette would have answered him, but the door 
in the living-room was opened, and Duprez came 
in. 

Lisette went to meet him, motioning Gaspard to 
conceal the box and cloak. He did so, folding the 
cloak within his coat, and putting the box away in 
the chest again, just as Duprez approached the 
bed. 

The ex -steward did not notice his late comrade. 
He stood by the bedside, hat in hand, and bent 
over towards the pale face of the widow. 

“ Julie, Julie ! ” he whispered. “See, I am back 
again ! ” t 

But there was no answer, either by look or 
word. The poor woman had spoken truly ; Duprez 
was too late, and with something almost respectful 
in his manner, far different from his bearing towards 
Madame Lascour in life, he turned away, leaving 
Lisette alone to watch the dead. 


216 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XX. 

ALMOST A RIVAL. 

The illness of Captain Maurice Fusil had been long 
and tedious, and his convalescence tardy ; he had 
had a faithful, patient nurse in Marie, but the long 
weeks of watching had worn upon her ; her cheeks 
were brown from exposure to the noonday sun, but 
the lips were pale and trembling as she came into 
the French camp at Gustadt, where the captain 
reported for duty under Marshal Ney, who was 
waiting an attack with but a poor show of resist- 
ance, while Xapoleon was, with all his cunning, 
endeavoring to draw the Russian general into action. 

The remnant of his regiment had been recruited 
by French conscripts, and in the transfer from 
Davoust’s division, Fusil found himself reporting 
for duty under a new commander, who enjoyed the 
confidence of the Emperor, and was holding the 
most exposed position upon the French line. 

And so, in camp again with what remained of 
his company, Fusil and Yalmeau were again com- 
panions. Their old enmity had not, as yet, worn 


ALMOST A KIVAL. 


217 


itself out, and for ten days Fusil had been on active 
service before there was any resume of old relations 
between them. 

But Marie Lascour was happy. After her long, 
weary search, and her tedious waiting, she had 
found her husband. No longer a conscript, he had 
become almost a veteran, though Valmeau, by his 
influence, had kept the chevrons from his coat 
sleeve, and he was doing duty simply as a private 
soldier. An officer’s authority was the lieutenant’s 
safeguard. Perhaps the transfer from Davoust’s 
command had aided him. Whatever villainy 
might have been in the cowardly desertion of his 
comrade whom he had left within the confines of 
the Dantzic forts, the matter had grown cold, and 
Niege was waiting for his opportunity. 

In their camp life, Yalmeau watched Marie 
Lascour, watched her with his envious eye, and 
with that subtlety of purpose which had been the 
effect of his early education. And yet, all his 
advances had been met with the cold disdain of a 
woman who felt secure in her own integrity. She 
had many friends in the regiment, and many to 
whom she had told the relationship which existed 
between herself and Pierre. 

Still, she was not wholly free from the scandal 
of the camp fire circle. None of the women liked 
her. She was of a different stamp from the majority 
of vivandieres who followed the grand army, bear* 
ing the canteen by their sides, and the pretty side- 


218 


PTJT 10 THE TEST. 


arms dangling from their belts. Her intercourse 
with Pierre was hazardous, and the mistress of a 
private soldier, as they called her, held her love in 
secret, and indulged its longings only where, by 
stealth, she could seek or create an opportunity. 

Valmeau possessed a dangerous secret in his 
knowledge of the marriage which she could not 
prove, and he often whispered love-words in her 
ears when she dared not repel his advances for 
fear of consequences to the man whom she so 
deeply, fondly loved. 

Fusil was thoughtful and attentive ; kind words 
came every day from him, but bitter consequences 
were the effect of those very words. To be an 
officer’s favorite was fatal to her good name, and 
the name they gave her, “ the captain’s pet,” was 
the subject of many a bivouac joke, and was 
bandied among the soldiers, sometimes loudly 
enough for her to hear. 

She had given just one promise to Fusil. The 
story of her flight from Alsace must not be told, 
he said, and this secret she pledged herself to keep, 
and she kept it inviolate, although the promise 
was a dangerous one for her, and the knowledge of 
the transaction between Fusil and Jean Duprez — 
the giving of the white ribbon, which had sent 
Niege away among the conscripts — was Fusil’s 
especial secret. Even half-witted Franz, who had 
shared so many secrets, knew nothing of it. 

Matters stood thus, when at the close of one 


ALMOST A RIVAL. 


219 


afternoon, Fusil and Valmeau were standing near 
the outposts, looking over towards the Prussians. 
The old wound from which Fusil still suffered 
sometimes, made him gruff and testy to-day, and 
Yalmeau was smarting under the conviction that 
Marie repulsed him, while he was by no means 
slow to lay the cause of it at his captain’s door. 

There were only the sentinals slowly pacing 
upon the outer guard-line, and Fusil commenced 
the conversation. 

“Ignorance is easy to assume, Yalmeau, when- 
ever you find it the most convenient.” He rolled 
an empty wine-keg. towards him, and seated him- 
self leisurely upon it. “I think you understand 
me.” 

“ Yes, I do.” 

The lieutenant threw himself down upon the 
ground and leaned his head upon his arm, watch- 
ing Fusil. 

“I am glad you do, lieutenant. It would be 
well if you understood Marie Niege as readily.” 

“The matter seems to worry you, Fusil. And 
why ? Do you love the girl ? ” 

“ Yes, if it pleases you, 1 love her ; but not as 
you do, quite.” 

“Then you are paying a compliment to my 
fancy that I scarcely hoped for. The girl is pretty, 
very pretty, captain, and I don’t blame you. 
Women like her are not often seen in camp, and I 


220 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


for one have no wish to shut out the vision of a 
pretty woman.” 

“You’re right there, Valmeau,” replied Fusil. 
“ Lazy campaigning is tedious, and affords a fine 
opportunity for the study of character; Marie 
has had a chance to study yours, I warrant, and 
your slanders against her have 'not bettered the 
reputation of yourself and mess.” 

“Slanders or truth, Fusil,” exclaimed Yalmeau, 
rising nervously, “she has meetings with this 
Pierre Hiege when he is on guard. And what is 
more, Fusil, you know it.” 

“ The girl claims him as her husband ; she has 
followed him all the way from Alsace. As to these 
midnight meetings, we shall see. To-night when 
Niege is on duty, I will test your story.” 

Yalmeau had gained his point. He had watched 
the lovers, and he knew that Marie met her husband 
when he went on guard. He saw that Fusil did 
not know it, or if he did, concealed his knowledge 
admirably; and the ruse of accusing him of the 
knowledge, had served merely as a cover to the 
assertion he had made against the mvandiere. 

They would have continued their conversation, 
but the quick roll of the drum aroused them, and 
the hour for the evening drill cut short their 
interview. 

The men were marching in upon the distant 
parade square, and Yalmeau had work to do. The 
drill was short, and as Fusil took the command 


ALMOST A RIVAL. 


221 


and gave bis orders, Marie and her sister vivandiere 
stood watching them. 

“You are tired, vivandiere Marie?” Yalmeau 
said, as the men broke ranks. “Some lover has 
been cross to you to-day, perhaps ? ” 

“ I have no lovers here, lieutenant,” she replied. 
“ The soldiers are my friends.” 

“Friends, little beauty, is that all?” He placed 
his hand familiarly upon her shoulder and clasped 
her around the waist. “ Friends ? Then one kiss 
of friendship will do no harm.” 

He bent over to kiss her as he spoke, but she 
sprang away from him, and threw into his face 
the contents of the cup into which she had been 
drawing wine from her canteen for Fusil. 

There was a ringing laugh from the vivandiere 
who stood beside her, and a murmur among the 
men. The insult was a grave one, and Yalmeau 
looked fiercely at her, as Fusil, seeing the anger 
of his lieutenant, stepped between them. 

“ Come come Marie, no quarrel ! Lieutenant 
Yalmeau was playful, that was all.” 

“ Quarrel, captain, and with him ? The man 
who seeks to wound a woman’s honor, is unfit for 
notice, — unworthy of a quarrel ! ” 

The words stung Yalmeau, and he came towards 
her as she spoke, brushing Fusil aside. But she 
was ready. Dashing down the cup, she drew from 
her belt the short sword with which she was 
armed, and pressed the point against his breast. 


222 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


All the hot blood of her nature was aroused. It 
was the first time since she had been in camp 
that anyone had dared to openly insult her, 
and she kept the bright blade towards Valmeau, 
till Fusil had wrenched the weapon from her hand. 

“ Another time then, captain ! another time,” 
she said. “ He shall answer for what he has done 
this day, so surely as I live ! ” 

Heedless of the remark, Valmeau retreated, and 
giving the word of command to the men, he 
marched away towards the tents, leaving Fusil 
and Marie alone together. 

“ You were wrong, Marie,” he said, just as the 
tramp of the sentinal ceased, and the salute was 
given to the relief guard who was coming. “ You 
may repent this folly when it is too late. That 
man is very dangerous to you ! ” 

She would have answered him, but she saw that 
he was angry. Hot at her, for he knew the provo- 
cation that she had had, but he saw trouble coming 
which even he might not be able to avert, and so, 
without a word, he walked away. 


223 


THE WORK OF A PRUSSIAN SPY. 


CHAPTER XXL 

THE WORK OF A PRUSSIAN SPY. 

Scarcely had the sound of Fusil’s heavy footsteps 
died away, when Marie felt the strength fail that 
wounded pride had given her, and leaning against 
the tent-poles for support, she buried her face in 
her hands. She had stood thus scarcely a moment, 
before tears, a woman’s tribute to her heart 
agony, had come ; and thinking that she was alone, 
she wept unrestrainedly ; but ere long there was a 
hasty step behind her, and Yalmeau touched her 
on the arm. 

“ Your pardon, Marie,” he said to her. “ I was 
hasty — may I be forgiven ? ” 

He olfered his hand to her, and with a woman’s 
ready forgiveness, she took it, standing silently 
before him, and looking up into his face as if to 
read his very thoughts, so calmly did she meet his 
earnest gaze. 

It was growing dark, and as they stood together, 
a signal light flashed brightly in the sky, away off 
to the left, and then another. 


224 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“We shall soon have work to do,” he whispered. 
“ Those signal lights mean mischief, and our line is 
much exposed. We should not quarrel now, at all 
events.” 

“Not now, lieutenant?” she asked in trembling 
tones. “ What do you mean — what danger threat- 
ens us ? ” 

“ The enemy has been too long quiet, and their 
sentry line is very close to ours.” 

“ Then there is danger ! ” 

She shuddered as she spoke, and looked back 
upon the sentinal who was still pacing near them, 
and then towards the distant outposts. Yalmeau 
saw the look, and drew her farther from the soldier. 

“Yes, Marie, and danger to your husband also. 
To-night, you know, he is on guard.” 

She started at his words. To her they meant 
more than she thought he realized. She knew that 
Pierre would be on duty, and she knew that she 
had pledged herself to meet him. 

“And you expect to see him. Your love-trysts 
are unknown to any one but me.” 

“But you will not betray us?” She looked 
inexpressibly beautiful standing in the mellow light, 
her hand outstretched imploringly towards him.; 
and as he looked at her the hot blood went tingling 
through his veins, and all the passion of his fiery 
nature was aroused. 

“ Perhaps — ” 

“ Oh no, you will not be so cruel to me ! You 


THE WORK OF A PRUSSIAN SPY. 


225 


know he is my husband, and you know how dear 
he is to me ! ” 

“ I know how dear you are to others, Marie, and 
I know how very dear you are to me.” He would 
have taken her hand, but she withdrew it, and 
stood away from him, looking up at the signal- 
lights which were alternately flashing, and then 
dying out. 

44 But he is all the world to me, sir, and I cannot 
give my love to you. If I am dear to you, grant 
me one favor — keep my secret as you are a man, 
and I will worship you for the kindness.” 

She waited for- his reply, but it did not come ; 
and weak from suspense, she sank down at his feet 
trembling with fear. 

He raised her tenderly. There was nothing in 
his action to cause offence this time. His every 
motion was kindness, and she almost telt as though 
she had made him a friend. 

44 You will not betray us, sir — one pledge — one 
word, sir — tell me that you will not let Pierre 
suffer for my loving him.” 

44 Well, as you wish it. Let the keeping of this 
secret be an atonement for what I did to-night. 
But give me one reward. One kiss, Marie — only 
one — and then, I am your friend.” 

44 A friend would never ask it, sir. We will be 
friends without it, and some time you will think 
better of me for not having given it.” 

She passed her hands about her neck, carelessly, 


226 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


as she turned away from him, and as she did so, 
her fingers caught in the chain which held the 
little silver cross which Lisette had given her from 
Pierre, and it fell at her feet, lying between her 
and Valmeau. 

She stooped to pick it up. But he was before 
her, and held the trinket in his hand. 

“This, then, Marie, instead. You will give it 
to me ? ” 

“ Oh, no, not that ! It was my husband’s ! ” 

She reached forward to take it from him, but he 
drew her towards him and held the cross away 
from her. 

“Then I shall value it the more. This little 
cross shall be my talisman, and I will keep your 
secret. See, your husband may be coming now.” 

The tread of the sentinals grew more distinct, 
and the sergeant of the guard had already reached 
the tent. And so, he placed the chain and cross 
in his breast, and left her looking after him. 

She knew the danger, now, that threatened her, 
and realized that she must not be seen. The ser- 
geant had passed on, giving the countersign to the 
guard, and so she followed him, leaving the soldier 
pacing before the tent, while the signal lights were 
telling of the movements in the Russian camp. 

But there was another witness to the scene 
whom neither of them had suspected. Following 
close behind the sergeant, crouching down behind 
the tent, hidden away amid the shadows of the 


THE WORK OF A PRUSSIAN SPY. 


227 


trees between them, a wary and a desperate enemy 
had concealed himself. 

As Valmeau had told her, the sentry line of both 
armies had been close together. The short space 
between the outposts was covered by a growth of 
stunted shrubbery, and through this a Prussian spy 
had crept, and was lurking near the unsuspecting 
sentinal, having stolen his way into the tent-line. 

As the soldier turned upon his round, the lithe 
form of the spy rose behind him. A second 
only he paused, and then, with the spring of a tiger, 
he caught him around the neck and bore him back- 
ward, to the ground. There was scarcely a strug- 
gle — the sentinal could utter no cry, for as he fell, 
the hard grasp of his antagonist was on his throat, 
and a thin cord, drawn tightly in a noose, was put 
about his neck. 

It was the work of a moment only. The spy 
knew well the value of that moment’s time. Press- 
ing his knee upon the soldier’s breast, he drew the 
cord tight. There was scarcely a sound, only one 
long sigh, and all was over. 

The renegade whose daring had brought him to 
the French camp, knew that life and death were in 
the moments given him. He was a rough herds- 
man of the German forests, and he looked anxiously 
about, as the soldier lay stretched before him ; and 
then began his work. 

Tearing open the jacket which the fallen man 
wore, he raised him up, and stripped the uniform 


228 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


away. Then, placing the body in the shadow of a 
tree beside the tent, he donned the clothing of which 
he had so quickly robbed the dead, and stood in 
his place, as guard. 

And not too soon. The steps of the coming re- 
lief were heard, and a few moments after, the file 
of men to relieve the sentry, came towards him. 
Pierre Niege came with them. He saluted the sup- 
posed French soldier, and took his place on duty. 
There was the whisper of the countersign — the 
quick low order to march on, and as he stood before 
the line of tents which cast their pretty shadows 
just beyond his path, the Prussian spy went out 
and away with the weary guard who had been re- 
lieved. 

Pierre Niege’s step was no longer the uncertain 
tread of the conscript, but rather the free, 
determined stride consequent upon the severe 
drill of the French army. Steadily the heavy 
footfall sounded on the beaten path, till at last 
he paused and listened — then, hearing no one, 
he walked on again, and stopped, leaning against 
the tree, within a few feet of the body of the 
murdered soldier. There was a crackling sound 
upon the fallen leaves, as he stood there, and in a 
moment he resumed his place. 

It was an officer who advanced, gave the counter- 
sign and passed. Valmeau, without noticing the 
man on guard, and shading his face from the twi- 
light, saw that Niege was ready, and waited in con- 


THE WORK OF A PRUSSIAN SPY. 229 

venient ambush, to prove the meeting with Marie. 

He had not long to wait, as he lay upon the 
ground a short way off, hidden by the shadow of 
a pile of camp equipments. The anxiety of the 
sentinal became more apparent, and he stepped 
aside from his beaten track to listen and to watch. 
Then, cautiously, he uttered a long, low whistle, 
such as would have come from a night-bird 
started from its resting-place, nothing more. 

There was a speedy answer to his signal. Just 
the faintest echo of the words of a mountain song, 
and Marie came towards him, picking her way 
carefully and lightly, looking back and wandering 
carelessly, it seemed. 

She was moody and dejected, and the fear which 
she felt was poorly concealed from the man who 
waited for her. She wound her arms about his 
neck, and he held her close to him, bending down 
and imprinting on her waiting lips a long-drawn, 
earnest kiss, such only as is given to those who 
have the right to love, and when their love is 
chastened by the fear of its discovery. 

“ Why, Marie, child, you’re strangely afraid 
to-night ! ” he said, passing his hand across her 
forehead and pushing the mass of dark hair back 
with his fingers. “Your cheek is cold and your 
hands are trembling.” 

“ You do not know the risk that we are taking, 
Pierre,” was her only answer. 

“ There is no risk to any one as brave and loving 


230 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


as you are, Marie, and the pledge I gave you when 
I marched away from Alsace has kept your heart 
free and true to me, my little darling ! ” 

The girl shuddered at the words the soldier 
whispered in her ear, and as she clung to him she 
felt that he must know of the only action for which 
she could deserve his censure. 

Instinctively she passed her hand to her neck. 
The little trinket was not there, and Pierre noticed 
her incautious action. 

“ How is this, Marie — you have not lost the 
silver cross I gave you ? It was my birthright — 
all I ever had that came to Madame Julie when 
she found me in the snow. Where is it ? ” 

A stifled sob was her only answer. She turned 
away from him to hide the tears which were upris- 
ing, and met the cold, handsome face of Yalmeau, 
now standing in the shadow, and looking calmly 
at the lovers. 

For the first time in her life she felt deception 
necessary, and the blush of guilt spread itself over 
her face, as she stood trembling in her husband’s 
arms. 

“I have not worn the chain to-day,” she faltered. 
“ Only to-day I left it off.” 

“And why? Marie, there is some secret here, 
you are deceiving me.” 

Yalmeau came forward as the soldier stood beside 
the weeping woman. Instinctively Pierre reached 
for his musket which leaned against the tree, but 


THE WORK OF A PRUSSIAN SPY. 


231 


the lieutenant stood between him and the weapon ? 
and Kiege drew back. 

“ The cross is here,” he said. “ Y ou may take 
your love-pledge back again, Marie.” He threw 
the chain upon the ground at her feet, and waited 
the result. 

Speechless with fear, she stooped to seize it, but 
Pierre placed his foot upon it, grinding it down 
beneath his heel, and turned trembling with emotion 
to Marie. 

“You gave the chain to him, Marie? Good 
God, and is my darling faithless to me, then!” 
he faltered, in a broken tone. “Ho, to your lover, 
since you choose between us ! ” 

She had put her hands out towards him, but he 
drew away from her, and turned fiercely towards 
Yalmeau. All the love he had for her, had in a 
single moment of the doubt which Yalmeau’ s action 
had caused, turned to anger, and he sprang upon 
his rival, grasping him by the throat, and holding 
him firmly, while their faces paled, and the eyes of 
each as they met the glance of the other, were 
filled with hatred. 

“We owe each other no love, lieutenant,” he 
muttered between his tightly shut teeth. “ At least 
I owe you none for leaving me in Dantzic ! ” 

He pressed Yalmeau down to the earth, and as 
he fell, Niege bent with his knee upon his breast, 
and regained his hold upon his throat. 

Yalmeau could only struggle — he tried to speak, 


232 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


but the weight upon his breast was choking him, 
and he saw only the hard features of the enraged 
private soldier looking down at him with a gaze 
that had no mercy in it. 

“ Shame, Pierre Niege ! he is an officer ! You 
know not what you do ! ” exclaimed Marie, strug- 
gling to release Yalmeau from the hold which 
Pierre had fastened on him. 

“ He was a spy with me once, and he proved 
himself a coward ! ” was all the answer that came 
hissing from the lips of the soldier who had been 
betrayed. 

But the help she could not give him came un- 
sought. Yalmeau struggled fiercely and contrived 
to free one hand. There was a pistol, ready loaded, 
in his breast, and with a sudden movement, he 
held the weapon above him and discharged it. 

There was a shot in answer, and before Niege 
could rise, Latouche and Baudelet, the guards on 
either side, came running to the prostrate officer. 

“ Seize him ! ” he cried. “ Away with him — he 
has struck an officer ! ” 

As they grasped his antagonist by the arms and 
dragged him off, Yalmeau staggered to his feet 
and drew his sword. He made a quick thrust at 
the prisoner, and would have wounded him, had 
not Maiie flung herself with all her force upon 
him, and grasped the weapon by the hilt. 

“ Spare him — spare him for my sake ! He is all 
the world to me.” 


THE WORK OF A PRUSSIAN SPY. 233 

Valmeau stood silent; lie pointed to the distant 
tents, and motioned the soldiers to take Niege 
away. 

“ For your sake, then, sweet one ! ” he whispered. 
“ I will not kill him for his impudence.” 

She would have answered him ; but with a sud- 
den glare a rocket shot up into the heavens, then 
another, and there was a sharp rattle of musketry 
from the outposts, as the sparks died away above 
them. 

There was no time for thanks from her, no 
moment left Yalmeau for love- words. The work 
of the Prussian spy had been well done, and volley 
after volley sounded, as the guards were driven in 
upon the lines, and with them the soldiers who 
had taken Pierre Niege in custody. 

The man was free again, and with a heavy blow 
he felled the lieutenant to the earth, and stood 
above him. He had regained his musket, and 
with the bayonet pressed towards the breast of the 
stunned and bleeding man, would have killed him 
as he lay. 

“ No, Pierre, you shall not kill him so ! It 
would be murder,” cried Marie, holding the barrel 
of the musket, and throwing herself upon the 
prostrate form of the senseless officer. “ What 
would you do — bring ruin down upon us both ? ” 

It was too late for Pierre Niege to answer her. 
The dark forms of half a hundred Prussian soldiers 
swarmed about them, and the bright steel of their 


234 


TUT TO THE TEST. 


bayonets was flashing in the uncertain light. The 
daring spy had not tarried in his work. Once safe 
within the lines, his signal had been given; the 
answer came in the swarming soldiers who had 
driven in the guards. They had taken the camp 
by surprise, and found a ready leader in the man 
who had struck down the sentinal. 

One form, lithe, sinewy, and bold, stood next to 
Pierre Niege, and another, answering to his hurried 
cry, had struck him from behind, while the Prussian 
spy had grappled with him. 

Almost before the sound of the first volley had 
died away, the men had forced their passage 
towards the centre, and as the dusky forms of the 
French soldiers mingled with those of the enemy, 
the two men measured strength in their fierce 
encounter. 

Stunned at first by the blow, Niege soon recovered 
himself and wound his strong arms about the man 
who stood before him ; it was a close struggle for 
the mastery, and both were well matched. 

For a moment the sound of their heavy breathing 
could be beard above the clatter of the arms around 
them, then there was the bright flash of steel, and 
Niege fell forward. A dagger-thrust from the 
Prussian had done its work, and as he fell, Marie 
caught him in her arms, while the spy laid hold 
of her and tried to drag her away from the 
fallen man. 


THE WORK OF A PRUSSIAN SPY. 


235 


“ Quick here, Gavotte ! ” he shouted to his com- 
rade. “ The woman, man, the woman ! ” 

He flung the senseless and bleeding form of 
Pierre Niege aside, and caught her by the throat. 
It was a cowardly thing to do, but he was desper- 
ate ; and as he held her speechless, his comrade 
caught her by the arms, and she was lifted from 
the ground with a stout arm about her waist, and 
the hand of the second soldier pressed upon her 
throat. 

“ Which way, Falco ? ” asked the ruffian, as he 
tightened his hold, and she felt the awful sensation 
of his choking grip — “ Quick, they are coming ! ” 
“ To the outposts, man ! To the outposts, for 
your life — you know the rest.” 

She heard only the words which the hoarse voice 
of her husband’s assailant hissed into the ear of 
the man who held her in his arms. All grew dark 
before her eyes, and she was borne away among 
the soldiers, who allowed the man to pass, and 
then closed in the fight behind her, as she was 
borne away. 


236 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

THE STORY OF A NECKLACE. 

The surprise and capture of a part of the French 
outposts was a matter of little consequence to the 
general result of the engagement which followed 

it. 

The Russians were compelled to force a battle, 
and it was part of Napoleon’s programme to draw 
Benningsen into an engagement. The calculations 
of success were, however, different from the sequel 
to the movement. Ney, already jaded and but 
poorly supplied, sustained a well-fought action at 
Gustadt, and retreated to Deppen, where he met 
the Emperor. 

Close-ranked and steady the French found new 
courage in the presence of Napoleon, and for a 
day the contest seemed uncertain — then, as the 
night closed in upon the fearful carnage, the 
Russians withdrew towards Heilsberg, where they 
made a halt, and stood awaiting the coming of the 
French commanders. 

Worn out and badly crippled as he was, Ney 


THE STORY OF A NECKLACE. 237 

concealed his losses, and allowing the Russians to 
continue their retreat across the river Aller, waited 
the further orders of Napoleon. 

Fusil and his men had seen hard fighting ; they 
had been in the thickest of the engagement, and 
as they looked out upon the church spires of the 
town of Friedland, they knew that Napoleon, en- 
raged and surprised at the stubborn resistance he 
had met from the Russian general, would wait and 
endeavor to draw him into battle. 

Fusil’s company had been decimated in the 
actions of the past few days. There were many 
who could not answer to the roll-call, and many 
more of the men of his regiment were lying in the 
rude hospitals. 

About the town of Friedland, and in the streets, 
the French army had been quartered, serving to 
decoy the Russian general who had taken stand 
upon the west bank of the river. 

Across the stream, a short distance above the town, 
stretched a long and narrow wooden bridge. In full 
sight of the Russians, the French occupied the 
position, tempting Benningsen to send regiments 
over to chastise his wily and manoeuvring enemy. 

Fusil was leaning against the bridge, looking 
over upon the sullen river, as Valmeau approached. 
The jaunty lieutenant had been wounded; a 
sabre cut upon his left arm had temporarily 
deprived him of its use, and it hung in a sling 
and splints. 


238 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


Maurice Fusil was looking towards the river, 
hut his thoughts were more uncertain than the 
muddy ripples which floated away beneath him. 
The false action on his part which had taken 
Pierre Niege away from Alsace, and the loss of the 
pretty vivandiere who had followed him, were 
heavy burthens in his train of thought. 

So much was he preoccupied that he scarcely 
heeded the approach of his lieutenant, on his first 
walk from the hospital, and he started as Valmeau 
touched him on the shoulder. 

“ Ah, Yalmeau — out again ! Glad of it — how is 
the wounded arm to-day ? ” 

“Better; it will be all right in a day or two. 
Have you a light? ” 

Fusil had been smoking, and as Yalmeau took a 
cigar from his pocket and extended his available 
hand for a light, he brushed away the ashes, and 
handed it over to him. 

“Well, captain, how is the record of the past two 
days? We have been pretty well cut up, I learn.” 

“Yes — we have fifteen killed, ten wounded, and 
six missing from the company. Not a bad record, 
if losses count for glory.” 

“Not so bad as I thought. Niege, I believe, is 
killed.” 

“No — missing since the surprise.” 

“About the same, Maurice. Missing men sel- 
dom turn up — at least, they are of no use to any 
one when they cfo.” 


THE STORY OF A NECKLACE. 239 

“ That is not always true. But I wouldn’t give 
much for the missing fellows, and I think Niege is 
dead.’’ 

“Well, captain, it is the fortune of war, you 
know. That surprise was sudden, and for a few 
moments there was infernally hot work, I tell 
you.” 

“ Niege was on guard, I learn, just where they 
broke the line, and Marie was fighting over him. 
Now they are both missing.” 

Yalmeau had gained some information from 
Fusil’s remark. The captain was ignorant of some 
of the events attending the surprise, and evidently 
did not know of the quarrel that had occurred with 
Pierre Niege, and so Yalmeau breathed freer, just a 
little, and changed his tone of conversation. 

“ Indeed ! I had hoped she had been made a 
pretty widow.” 

“You’re charitable! Most probably she is a 
widow. There’s very little chance for Pierre Niege, 
for if a prisoner, he is wounded.” 

“ Then it’s as well, perhaps. It has saved you 
the trouble of shooting him as a deserter.” 

Fusil started at the words. Singularly enough, 
he had often thought of Pierre’s desertion. He had 
been watching him for weeks, and since Marie had 
found him, he had expected to hear of his desertion 
and her escape from camp, and so Yalmeau had 
given his thoughts a name, and his fears the out- 
line of a certainty. 


240 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ Deserter or not, he is among the missing, and 
Marie, if she be not dead herself, is probably the 
widow you have so generously desired. She is out 
of your reach, Yalmeau, at least.” 

A fresh light to his cigar finished the sentence 
for Fusil, and he watched Yalmeau carefully as he 
puffed the smoke away from him, and scanned his 
handsome face through the light blue wreaths 
which circled around it. 

“ Perhaps, captain — and only perhaps. She may 
not be even missing. Have you searched for her ? ” 

“ She has not been seen since the night of the 
surprise. One of the men insists that she was 
carried away by the fellow who came in as a spy 
and got up the affair so very nicely.” 

“ Happy Prussian ! ” exclaimed Yalmeau. “ The 
privilege of clasping that woman in your arms 
would be cheap at the price of a good sound drub- 
bing afterward ! ” 

“Would you have paid that price for it? ’’in- 
quired Fusil, with just a little sarcasm. 

Yalmeau would have answered, but the sharp 
whizz of a bullet caused him to turn, and they 
were found to be a mark for the Russian sharp- 
shooters who were practicing from across the 
river. 

“ There’s too much danger here, Fusil,” he said, 
quietly, moving away. “ Those grey-coated fellows 
will fall into the trap before long — but I don’t care 
to be the first victim of their steady aim ! ” 


THE STORY OF A NECKLACE. 


241 


He was right. It was part of Napoleon’s 
plan to draw them across the river by exposing a 
portion of his force to lead them on. 

The two officers walked quietly away, while 
there w*ere signs of a movement on the river’s 
bank. 

“ There will be work soon, captain, and we may 
be needed,” said Yalmeau, as they struck into the 
crowded street of Friedland. “ But, truth now — 
is Marie Lascour among the missing ? ” 

“ Yes — and she is beyond the reach of her 
would-be lieutenant lover, and has no need of my 
protection, probably.” 

“ Then she has lost a champion ; you seem to 
have been the protector of her good name, if not 
the custodian of her virtue.” 

u Champion to no woman, lieutenant ! But I 
do not care to hear Marie Niege maligned when 
she is not present to resent it,” was the quick 
reply. 

“ Glad to hear you say so, then, Maurice ! she 
has drawn the visor over your eyes most grandly. 
I may know more of her than even you may think. 
Her moonlight trysts may not have been with 
Pierre Niege alone ! ” 

“ Then you insinuate — ” 

“ Nothing, Maurice Fusil. The regiment has 
lost a pretty face, and I have lost a pretty mistress, 
that is all. I’ve nothing left of her but this, per- 
haps.” 


242 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


He placed his hand in his bosom, and with some 
difficulty drew from his vest the chain and trinket 
he had taken from her, and held it up between his 
fingers. 

“ Do you know it ? ” 

“ Why yes ; it is Marie’s necklace, and she 
seemed to value it. I have seen her wear it often.” 

“ Yes ? and wished you were the necklace, eh ? 
This narrow circle of gold, and the silver cross, 
could tell us tales if they could speak. Le fruit 
defendu hidden just beneath them has been too well 
concealed from you to make the possession of the 
necklace valuable as a souvenir.” 

“ Where did you get it — did she give it to you ? ” 
inquired Fusil, anxiously, as they walked along, 
taking the necklace from Yalmeau. 

He looked at it a moment, and then passed it 
back to him, waiting for the answer, as they 
brushed past the soldiers who were crowding the 
streets, and as the drum and bugle sounded 
clearly, telling of the movements which the 
French were making, and which, as Yalmeau 
had said, meant work at hand. 

“If she were here, perhaps she’d tell you. It 
might betray some secrets of your virgin conscript 
vivandiere. She gave it to me as a love-pledge, 
nothing more. My fancy, so she gave it me.” 

Fusil again took the trinket, looked at it care- 
lessly, and then tossed it back to its new owner. 
He did not believe the story which Yalmeau had 


THE STORY OF A NECKLACE. 


243 


told him, but he could not disprove it; he hesi- 
tated, and then, in a moment, quickly said : 

“ I don’t believe it, Louis. Some day, you may 
have a chance to prove it, though ! ” 

“ By whom ? ” 

“By Marie, if she lives. Your word of honor, 
Yalmeau, did she give you that?” 

“ My word of honor, yes. It is a pledge of 
secrecy from Marie to me.” 

Cautiously, he told the truth, and Fusil be- 
lieved it. 

There were quick movements among the troops, 
and the noise of steady firing came towards them 
from the bridge. There was no time to talk — 
already the shots were falling in the streets, and 
the French regiments were hurrying towards the 
river. And so they parted, each to go his way, 
but Fusil was thinking of Marie Niege and felt 
that she was not unlike the others. 

Yalmeau had clipped his angel’s wings. 


244 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE IDIOT’S MISSION. 

There were shots falling in the streets of Fried- 
land, and there was work ahead for Captain Maurice 
Fusil ; work for Valmeau rIso, wounded as he was, 
and scarcely free from the hot air of the officers’ 
hospital. 

Napoleon had displayed all the cunning of which 
he was a master. From the disastrous check which 
he had received at Preuss-Eylau, he had formed 
the base of his operations. Crippled by that defeat, 
in which Davoust’s division of veterans had been 
so cruelly cut to pieces, he had thrown Ney for- 
ward, and Ney had sustained the brunt of the 
action at Gustadt, from which he had fallen back 
upon Deppen, making a desperate stand, and wait- 
ing the presence of the Emperor to put life and 
victory into his exhausted troops. 

Benningsen was waiting for his reenforcements, 
which came merely in scattered regiments, and 
only the rapid coursing Aller divided the opposing 
forces. 


THE IDIOT’S MISSION. 


245 


In this position, the strategy of Napoleon told 
with its full force. He had thrown his army hack 
of the town, and scattered the remnants of two 
divisions within the streets of Friedland and near 
the bridge upon the river’s bank, deceiving the 
Russian commander by exhibiting what JBenningsen 
believed to be nothing more than the rear guard 
of the French army. 

For two days Napoleon had thus set his decoys, 
hoping to draw the enemy across the river, so that 
they might have the town and bridge upon their 
rear, while he was massing his heavy columns in 
the front, seeking to drav^ his adversary into battle, 
without the choice of position. 

Just as the afternoon was waning, a small 
division of the Russian force had marched across 
the river. The firing commenced by their sharp- 
shooters, as Yalmeau and Fusil were standing on 
the bridge, had been succeeded by an advance 
across the narrow wooden structure which spanned 
the river just above the town. 

The advance was so rapid and concerted that 
the French were, even in obedience to their orders, 
slow in falling back ; and as the regiments came 
across and entered the town, there was a steady 
combat in the narrow streets. 

The feint of Napoleon’s movement was intended 
to draw the Russian forces from their position 
upon the west side of the river, and the policy 
which he adopted was alternate advance and re- 


246 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


treat, till his object should have been accomplished. 

Already there was heavy firing from the Russian 
advance, as Fusil crushed his way to head-quarters, 
followed by Valmeau. There had been a slight 
struggle only at the bridge, and the Muscovite 
soldiers were advancing into the town, while but a 
small portion of the French army offered any show 
of resistance to their entry. 

As Fusil stood waiting his orders, and Napoleon, 
surrounded by his Imperial Guard, watched the 
progress of his plan, a well-worn regiment was 
forcing its way to the front. 

Beside one of the color sergeants, armed with a 
dilapidated sword, which he was waving high above 
his head, strode Franz, almost at a dog-trot, to 
keep up with the soldiers. He was dressed in the 
tattered clothes of a camp-follower, with the cap 
of a German soldier crushed down above his eyes. 

The boy seemed wild with the excitement of the 
moment, intent upon keeping up with the men, 
without any apparent object except to be with 
them and to do as they did. 

There was a glance of recognition between him 
and Fusil, as he went past the house by which 
the captain stood. Franz had gone a few rods 
away, when he turned and came back to Fusil. 

“I am going to the bridge,” he said, taking 
Fusil’s hand a moment in his dirty palm. “ They’re 
fighting down there by the river.” 

“ You had better keep away. They don’t want 


THE IDIOT’S MISSION. 


247 


you there,” was the careless reply, as the captain 
watched the moving mass of infantry, and paid 
but little attention to the boy. 

“ But I may go, captain ? ” he inquired a second 
time. “ If I get hurt, it makes no difference, now 
Marie is gone.” 

There was another heavy volley from the river, 
and the men halted as the order rang down the 
street, and far off were the grey caps of the Rus- 
sian soldiers, driving the French before them. 

F usil paid no attention to the boy beside him. 
He dashed away past the men who were on the 
march, and left the lad standing in amazement, 
looking after him, jostled by the crowd of soldiers. 

The order to halt had been sent by the Emperor 
himself, and throughout the narrow, intricate streets 
of the town the French retreated steadily and 
swiftly, leaving the place in possession of the 
Russian soldiers, while the remainder of Bennmg- 
sen’s force was sent across the river, and his 
advanced regiments stood awaiting orders, watch- 
ing the retreating French, as Napoleon, close upon 
their rear, hurried them away from Friedland. 

The snare which he had set for Benningsen had 
worked well, and in the dusk of the evening the 
Russian generals made their head-quarters in the 
market-place, and the French outposts were scat- 
tered upon the low hills and in the dense woods 
beyond the town. 

Unable to escape, Franz found himself resting in 


248 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


an open doorway, tired and exhausted from his 
fruitless tramping. He had escaped the bullets, 
and the new occupants of the place paid no atten- 
tion to the boy who sat upon the wide, stone door- 
step. The few residents left in the houses were 
making friends with the Russian soldiers, fearing a 
general pillage from their hands, and they were 
secreting their provisions and valuables from the 
inquisitive non-residents. 

There was but little love for either the French 
or Russians among the people of the sturdy Ger- 
man town. Both were invaders, and it mattered 
very little which became conqueror. 

In the hurry of their designed retreat, the French 
had left their wounded and some prisoners in the 
hands of the Russian soldiers, and in the streets 
where they had fought there were many lying dead 
and dying in the dust. 

As Franz sat on the doorstep, a pleasant-faced 
German woman tapped him on the shoulder and 
spoke to him in German. He could not understand 
her, though he answered in poorly chosen words 
of the Alsace patois. 

The woman made out what he said, and they 
became good friends. There was a quiet friendli- 
ness in the boy’s manner which drew the woman’s 
heart towards him, and she bade him follow her 
into the next street, where she entered a small, 
quaint looking house, closing the door after her. 

She had taken to her care two wounded officers. 


THE IDIOT’S MISSION. 


249 


One of them was a young French captain who had 
been badly hurt, and his pale, boyish face looked 
sadly towards her, as she came to the mattress on 
which he had been laid. The other was a Russian 
colonel, less severely wounded, but suffering from 
loss of blood, and very weak. 

There was a strange contrast between the men. 
One, with the clear features of a French soldier, 
lay dying, and could only whisper ; the other was 
a bronzed Russian, whose grey hair hung in 
heavy masses about his head, and whose voice was 
silvery in its broken accents. 

Humanity, rather than friendship, had actuated 
the woman when the men were brought into her 
humble house, and she was ministering to both 
as best she could from her scanty store. 

“The captain will soon be dead,” the Russian 
colonel whispered, as he beckoned her to his bed- 
side. “I know his wound — it’s very dangerous. 
Give him wine or brandy if you have it.” 

All the liquor that she had was soon brought, 
enough to fill the glass she handed to the young 
French captain. He was too weak to drink, and 
she raised him in her arms and put the liquor to his 
lips. A few swallows only, scarcely half a dozen 
mouthfuls, and he put the glass away, while there 
was a convulsive tremor in his frame, and he looked 
steadily up into the woman’s face. 

“ Merci pour V amour cle Dieu / ” he murmured ; 
there was a sudden gasp, the hand which she held, 


250 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


clasped her fingers tightly for a second, and then 
the story of his life was over. 

“ I knew it ; it is always so,” the Russian said, 
as she laid the form of the dead soldier back upon 
the mattress. “I need a surgeon, can you get 
one ? ” 

“I can try;” was the laconic answer, as the 
woman stood waiting his instructions. 

He snatched one of the soiled epaulettes from 
his shoulder, and gave it to her. It had the insignia 
of his rank and the number of his regiment upon it. 

“ To the first head-quarters, my good woman ! 
Ask for a surgeon and give him that — tell him to 
come here quickly, and let the lad stay with 
me.” 

He was imperative in his words and manner. 
So she took the epaulette and went away, throwing 
a cloth over the upturned face of the dead captain, 
and bidding Franz, in broken French, to wait till 
her return and give the Russian soldier whatever 
he might need. 

“ I’d rather go with you. I’ll get the doctor,” 
said the idiot, as she left them. 

But in a mild tone the colonel called him back 
and told him he had something else for him to do. 
He spoke quietly and kindly to him in good French, 
and Franz saw that he had nothing to fear. 

The wound which he had received was in his leg 
and was not a serious one, though he had lost much 
blood before aid had come to him ; the bandage 


THE IDIOT’S MISSION. 


251 


about his leg was rudely adjusted but had served 
to stop the flow. 

“What are you doing here in Friedland, my 
lad ? You were with the French ? ” 

“Yes; I came here with the soldiers, but they 
left me when the other soldiers came across the 
bridge.” 

“You are a brave boy then,” he said, “and you 
were not afraid ? ” 

“ No; if they killed me, it would be no matter, 
now Marie is gone.” 

“ Marie ? who is she ? the woman who has gone 
away from here ? ” 

“ Oh no, I mean Marie Lascour, the vivandiere 
who came away from Alsace after Pierre Niege.” 

“ And who is Pierre Niege ? ” 

“ One of Captain Fusil’s soldiers. He was killed 
when they were surprised, and Marie too, for she 
did not come back.” 

The officer would have questioned Franz still 
further, but the woman soon returned, bringing 
with her a Prussian surgeon whom she had found 
a few streets distant, at work among the wounded. 

He proceeded quietly to work, first examining 
the colonel’s hurt, and then turning to the bed 
whereon the captain lay. 

“No service needed there, my friend, the man is 
dead,” said the Russian, with an impatient gesture. 
“ How bad am I ? ” 

“ Your hurt is not serious. The bullet has passed 


252 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


through, but it has left no ugly wound behind it. 
I will bind the leg up more carefully, and to-morrow 
it can be attended to.” 

lie was short in his replies and quick in his work, 
for lie had much to do. A few moments served to 
fix the wounded limb, and he went away, without 
a glance at the dead captain, leaving Franz and 
the kind-hearted woman ivith the Russian colonel. 

“ You can travel, lad? ” he asked, after the lapse 
of a few moments. “You will go over the river 
for me, if I pay you for it ? ” 

The boy’s eyes glistened as he heard the words. 
The idea of being paid for any service except by 
blows and curses, was a new sensation in his daily 
life. 

“ Oh yes — I’ll go for nothing if you want me to, 
and if 1 know the way. What must I do ? ” 

“ Carry a message to a soldier, that is all, and 
you can do it easily. There is a gold piece for 
you, and now pay attention.” 

He took a purse from his breast and handed 
Franz a gold coin. The boy took it wonderingly, 
and held it up to the light to see it shine, then put 
it away beneath his jacket, and turned to listen. 

“You must go quickly, and come back to me. 
Away over towards the woods where the river 
bends and the water dashes over the rocks, there 
is a little house close down by the shore. There is 
only one, and you can see it when you get beyond 
the turn. There you will find two soldiers. Tell 


THE IDIOT’S MISSION. 


253 


them that you saw their colonel here, and that he is 
wounded. One of them is a small, dark man, with 
a cut across his forehead, so ; ” — he motioned with 
his hand, describing the wound the soldier had 
received — “ Tell him not to lose what I have left 
with him, and if in danger take it to the old stone 
tower.” 

“ He mustn’t lose what you have left with him, 
and take it to the old stone tower if there’s any 
danger.” 

The boy repeated the words a second time, and 
then, with the slowly spoken sentence, “I won’t 
forget it, and I’ll find the soldiers ! ” he left the 
house. 

“ Has the boy gone ? ” the colonel asked, turning 
abruptly towards the woman who had heard him 
give the orders. 

“ Yes, and he is on the road towards the bridge 
already.” 

“ Good. I think he understood the message. 
Are there many soldiers in the streets ? Do you 
see any of our men near this house ? ” 

She looked out from the doorway as he bade 
her, and beckoned a soldier to come in. He was 
a tall, sturdy Russian private, who obeyed her 
motions, and who, as he came into the house and 
saw the colonel, brought his musket to its place, 
and stood presenting arms. 

There was a few words between them, and a 
whispered conversation, which the woman could 


254 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


not understand. The colonel took a book and 
pencil from his pocket, and wrote a few words upon 
the fly-leaf of the memorandum sheets. The words 
were these : 

“ I have sent an idiot boy to Falco. He may 
be dangerous .” 

He whispered the name of a Prussian officer to 
the soldier, and gave him the message. The man 
saluted him again, and without a word, only with 
a look which told that he knew well the errand 
upon which the wounded man had sent him, went 
away from the house and left the woman wonder- 
ing what the soldier went to do. 


THE REMNANT OP A SECRET. 


255 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE REMNANT OF A SECRET. 

We may turn back in our story’s progress, to 
Alsace, and visit Jean Duprez’s cottage. The ex- 
steward is absent, and Gaspard Jarome seems to 
have embraced the opportunity for a conference 
with Lisette; for we find him busily engaged in 
conversation with the old housekeeper, in Jean 
Duprez’s most private room. 

Upon the table lie the contents of the strong 
box in which Duprez kept most of his papers, and 
in which lay hidden such of his life’s secrets as 
might be considered safe under the guardianship 
of lock and key. 

There were old, musty parchments on which the 
ink had turned a rusty grey, and on some of which 
the wax of the seals had lost its color and clung to 
the faded ribbons only by the closest care in 
handling; title deeds and abstracts of more than 
half of the mountain village ; rent rolls upon which 
the names of old tenants had been erased and 
superseded by new names, marking the death or 


256 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


dispossession of the original renters. All these 
had Gaspard turned over, and several sealed 
pacquets which Lisette insisted he should open, 
and which Gaspard with better judgment, insisted 
should be left untouched. 

“ No, they are not here,” he said slowly, as one 
by one he put the papers back into the box. “ They 
may be in the pacquets, but those we dare not 
open.” 

Lisette was carefully locking the box again. 
The previous night while Duprez was fast asleep, 
she had stolen to his bedside and had secured the 
duplicate key of his strong box ; so to-day, certain 
of an uninterrupted hour, — for Duprez was at the 
village — Gaspard and Lisette had been making the 
best of the time and opportunity, in searching for 
the will of the late Marquis De Briennes. 

“ Perhaps he has destroyed it ; ” ventured the 
woman, as the key was turned in the lock and the 
table rolled back to its place beside the wall. 

“ No,” replied Gaspard Jean Duprez is too fond 
of old papers to let that relic be destroyed. He 
has hidden it somewhere, and we must find it. It 
may be at the castle.” 

“ In the old well ? ” 

“Either there or in the vault beneath the ruins 
of the burned wing. You say you saw it once 
after the old marquis died, and after Duprez came 
back from the Spanish town ? ” 

“ Yes — I saw him have it in his hands ; he was 


THE REMNANT OF A SECRET. 


257 


studying the name upon it ; it was when he made 
the second will in which the balance of the estate 
was bequeathed to him. You remember that ? ” 

“Full well, Lisette. Our names are on that 
will as witnesses, and it is the damning evidence of 
crime against me.” 

“But that was not all your crime, Gaspard, 
you forget that Louis De Briennes — ” 

“ Yes, yes, I know, — but God knows I did not 
murder him. I placed him where he must have 
been found in a few hours by the convent sisters, 
and I spoke the truth when I told Duprez I had 
disposed of him.” 

“ And the other boy — Phillippe — you feel certain 
that the cloak belonged to him ? ” inquired Lisette, 
anxiously. 

“It could have belonged to no one else. The 
initial is the same, and the white silk crest is not 
entirely gone. That boy was Phillippe De Briennes. 
You should know more of it than I do.” 

“ You are at fault there, Gaspard, with all your 
cunning. I know that Duprez took the boy away 
himself, and that he was never seen afterwards. 
I always supposed that he was buried in the old 
well, along with the papers which Duprez put there 
before he filled it up.” 

Lisette and Gaspard were telling secrets ; secrets 
which Duprez little supposed that either would 
betray. The events of the past few months had 
made them common friends, and the discovery of 


258 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


the cloak which had been so long in the possession 
of Madame Lascour, had caused them to seek a 
solution of a mystery. 

But this one secret was known only to Duprez, 
if known to any one, and they had been searching 
for the proof. 

Gaspard’s story had been plainly told. lie' had 
made a compact with Jean Duprez to dispose of 
the heirs to the estate. The terms of the com- 
pact were simple, and bound the plotters to secresy 
for their own safety. Duprez’s, the plan w r as, and 
none but him knew the course to be pursued. 
Suffice it to say that the boys were spirited away, 
that Gaspard had gone from Alsace with Louis, 
had travelled by night towards southern France, 
and had placed his burthen in the box of a 
foundling hospital, throwing in after it a pacquet 
containing his name and history, which he himself 
had written, and of the contents of which Duprez 
was commendably ignorant. 

As to the other boy, Duprez took charge of him. 
A few days after the departure of Gaspard with 
his half of the iniquity, the boy was missing from 
the castle — lost, somewhere, so Lisette was told, 
and some of the papers belonging to the old mar- 
quis were thrown into an unused w T ell, which 
Duprez had filled with stone a few hours afterward. 

Two of the three partners in the affair had now 
formed a separate firm, it seemed ; Gaspard had 
disclosed to Lisette his disposition of the child he 


THE REMNANT OF A SECRET. 


259 


had had in charge, and together, they had stumbled 
upon a clue, which, if followed, might lead to a 
detection of Duprez’s disposal of the other boy. 

“Well, we must hunt for it,” said Gaspard, 
musing. “I will meet you to-night at the old 
castle, and we will begin the work. You can get 
away ? ” 

“Yes, if not till midnight — he may not come 
home — you know he is uncertain.” 

They were standing in the doorway, and as 
Lisette spoke, Gaspard glanced carelessly down 
the road, and then stepped back into the room. 

“ He is coming — to-night, then, if you can ; I 
will be there to meet you. He must not see me 
now.” 

Duprez was indeed coming, walking slowly up 
towards the cottage. Lisette went outside as if to 
look for Duprez, while Gaspard, used to every 
nook and corner of the house, drew up the trap in 
the kitchen floor, and went below into the cellar 
where there was a door through which lie could 
escape when Duprez was in the house ; and so, as 
the master came in from his dusty tramp and flung 
down his hat and cane, his late companion crept 
out from among the dust and cobwebs, and took 
his way towards the village inn. 

Glancing carelessly from the half-closed window, 
Lisette saw him walk away ; then she turned 
towards Duprez and asked what news he brought. 

For a little while the master of the house sat in 


260 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


silence, and Lisette meantime looked anxiously out 
upon the road, where she could just see the retreat- 
ing form of Gaspard J arome, as he w'alked briskly 
away towards the village. 

“ What news do you bring of the boy, J ean ? ” 

The inquiry came in a quiet, earnest tone ; Gas- 
pard was well away from the house, and Lisette 
had no need for further delay or prevarication. 

“ Nothing; except that he is off to the war, 
tagging at the skirts of Marie Lascour, and wander- 
ing about the camp as a vagabond. I wish they’d 
shoot the brat.” 

“Then I don't, Jean Duprez! He may be a 
curse to both of us, but he is your son, and mine, and 
the blood in his veins is sacred to me, if not to you.” 

For a few moments Duprez made no reply. 
Lisette was sullen, and he had no desire to provoke 
her to anger. She had recalled an unpleasant 
episode in his life, and he was quite willing not 
to prolong the conversation. 

The cool reply which he had given her, had 
wrung from the woman words which she seldom, 
if ever, uttered. For years she had kept the secret 
of the lad’s parentage. It was the only evidence 
of her early shame, and Franz was to her a living 
reminder of the love which she had once borne for 
J ean Duprez. Even Gaspard Jarome knew nothing 
of this, and the story of the lad’s appearance at the 
castle was one which he believed, as well as others 
to whom it had been told. 


THE REMNANT OF A SECRET. 


261 


And so, when she thought of the lad who had 
gone away with Marie, and from whom she 
watched for the slightest tidings, the woman’s 
heart gained the vantage, and she sat down in the 
chimney-corner and buried her face in her wrinkled 
hands, swaying her body to and fro, and sobbing 
in her grief. 

“Never mind, Lisette; he may come back 
again!” He approached her quite kindly as he 
spoke, and laid his hand upon her shoulder. She 
merely looked up at him, and rising, put his hand 
aside with indifference. 

“You won’t be pleasant, then ? ” he said ; “ well, 
have your way, Lisette, and I will have my own. 
Is supper ready ? ” 

“ Yes — will you have it ? ” 

“I have been walking quite enough to-day to 
make me hungry.” 

And so, in silence, the two sat down to supper, 
Duprez, longing for nightfall to enjoy his own 
amusement in summing up the rents due him, and 
Lisette, longing for her meeting with Gaspard. 


262 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

A TRIP OF EXPLORATION. 

It was nearly midnight; and in the stillness of 
the solemn shadows Gaspard Jarome sat, leaning 
against one of the broken arches at the ruins of 
the Castle De Briennes. It was lonely, yet he was 
not entirely comfortless, for whatever satisfaction 
there was to be derived from the cloud of smoke 
which went up from the bowl of his short clay 
pipe, it was the particular province of Gaspard 
Jarome to enjoy. 

The walk from the village was long and. tedious, 
and he had had a heavy load to carry; he had 
brought with him a short iron bar, a pair of 
grappling irons such as the -wood cutters used, 
several lengths of stout rope, and a basket. There 
had been more than time enough for rest, however, 
for Lisette had kept him waiting more than two 
hours, and he was not particularly good-humored 
at the delay. 

She came at last, and tired and breathless from 


A TRIP OF EXPLORATION. 


263 


her walk, sat down upon the broken stones at his 
feet, and waited for him to speak. 

“Well, you’re here at last, Lisette; you’re very 
late; what kept you?” 

“Jean Duprez, as you might know, without ask- 
ing. He returned from the village in one of his 
ill-humored moods, and I could not get away till 
he had gone into his room and locked the door; he 
is turning over his old musty papers.” 

“ Hm! We’ve had the first toss of the parch- 
ments, Lisette, and if Jean Duprez knows no more 
than we do, after he has overhauled them, he’ll 
have his work for nothing; that’s all I have to 
say ! ” 

“ The will was not in the box at all events, and 
remains to be found ; we have work to do ; there’s 
no time for talking.” 

“Then help me and I’ll do it ! ” 

Together they followed along the broken wall, 
and then descended into the mass of ruin behind 
it, startling a number of night-birds from their 
hiding places. The still, bright moonlight gave a 
wierd look to the stones and stunted bushes which 
had overgrown the ruins of the burned wing. 
Close by, the solid walls of the main building, 
scorched by the fire, stood out in bold relief against 
the moonlit sky, their blackened outlines looking 
not unlike gigantic spectres towering threateningly 
above the workers. 

The spot to which they had bent their sten» 


264 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


was well known to both of them; a long residence 
at the castle had made them familiar with the 
interior of the building, and as after the fire much 
of the debris had been cleared away by the laborers, 
the round surface stones of the unused well were 
easily distinguished. 

“ Here we are, Lisette ; and now, what are the 
chances for discovery ? ” 

Jarome paused a moment, and leaned upon the 
iron bar, looking down into the pile of stones which 
lay beneath him. He evidently did not fancy the 
task which he had undertaken, and as he struck a 
light for a new pipe full of tobacco, he looked at 
his companion with a quizzical air. 

“That old well holds secrets, Gaspard, which 
are of great value to you and me. Come, I will 
help you. We must get through this work to-night, 
or not at all ! ” 

There was determination in her tone and manner, 
and Gaspard knew well enough that Lisette’s 
nature was already tainted by the ill-humor of the 
ex-steward’s disposition, so he sprang down into the 
well, and began removing the loose stones which 
had been thrown into it, handing them up to 
Lisette, who rolled them away from the edge of 
the well into the ravine beyond it. 

The time for conversation between the workers 
was limited ; as the loose stones were removed, and 
Gaspard went deeper down into the well, his pipe 
went out, and he stopped a moment to hide it 


A TBir OF EXPLORATION. 


265 


in his blouse, while Lisette leaning over the side 
of the opening, called down to him. The rope and 
basket had by this time been brought into requisi- 
tion; Gaspard was beginning to strike the sand 
and gravel of the bottom of the well, and the 
stones which Lisette hauled up in the basket were 
much smaller than those thrown out at first, and 
they were damp and partly covered with the clay 
in which they had been so long imbedded. 

Whatever the old well might contain that would 
aid this man and woman in unravelling the mystery 
which so overwhelmingly occupied their thoughts, 
it would soon be brought to light; and at each 
basketful which Lisette drew up, she called down 
encouragingly to Gaspard, who replied with a 
grunt of satisfaction. 

It was tedious labor at the best, and Gaspard 
was perhaps no better natured than he should 
have been. When men work for some well-defined 
purpose, and when they can see signs of success — 
be they ever so faint — there is an incentive to 
labor; but Gaspard had undertaken the work of 
exploration more at Lisette’s instance than because 
of his own belief in the ultimate success of the 
undertaking, and therefore he was but an unwilling 
worker. The half contented growl which he had 
given Lisette in answer to her words of encourage- 
ment, was soon followed by an exclamation of 
dissatisfaction, and this in turn, by an oath ; and 
then the man sat down upon the pile of slimy 


266 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


stones which still remained at the bottom of the 
well, and launched his maledictions upon the 
woman who stood above, for the fruitless work 
which she had induced him to undertake. 

“A little more patience, Gaspard, you have 
reached the bottom, and the box must be hidden 
somewhere in the well. I know that Duprez had 
some good reason for filling up this well ; the box 
with the papers must be there ! ” 

She leaned over the opening and looked down 
at him. As the man raised his eyes and saw the 
cool, determined face above him with an expression 
of the most intense anxiety written upon its linea- 
ments, the woman’s eyes rested upon the coarse 
features of Gaspard Jarome wearing an expression 
of disgust and nothing more. 

“A little more patience, Gaspard;” she said 
again, “I am sure you will find the box.” She 
spoke in a quiet, entreating tone, but there was 
the semblance of despair in the appeal which she 
addressed to him. She had hitherto assisted him 
in his work with a seemingly stolid indifference, 
disposing of the baskets of stones and earth, and 
maintaining almost a silence, till the ill-temper of 
her companion had manifested itself, in the oath he 
had spoken, and had caused her to dread lest he 
should give up the work almost at the very moment 
of its completion. 

Gaspard made no reply to her, but turned as if 
to work again; then, stooping low. he stopped 


A TRIP OF EXPLORATION. 2 67 

suddenly, and called to lier that there was nothing 
there. 

“ It must be there ! I know that Duprez must 
have put the papers and the box in this old well ; 
it was his only safety ! ” 

Lisette saw that Gaspard remained obdurate, 
and that she must do the work herself. The stout 
rope would bear her weight, and in a few words 
she told him that she would come down to him. 

With nervous hands she fastened the end of the 
rope to the edge of the old well, and with the 
basket filled with stones lying at the bottom, she 
swung herself over the curb, and began the 
descent. The rough sides, with their jagged, 
uneven edges, gave her a foothold, and with a 
little assistance from Gaspard, she was soon beside 
him. 

There was desperation in her work, her hands 
trembled nervously, and her breathing was short 
and quick. Gaspard, in a sullen, unwilling manner, 
helped her toss the stones aside, as he pressed the 
iron bar down into the sand and drew it up again, 
wet and sticky from the oozy clay, but without 
striking anything which seemed like the box they 
sought. 

“ There is one chance left, Gaspard,” she said, in 
a low, uncertain whisper, “it may be somewhere 
here.” 

She had explored the narrow limits of the well 
with the exception of one place. A large, flat 


268 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


stone lay embedded in the clay, and it took the 
united efforts of both the workers to raise it. It 
had sunk deeper into the sand than the rest, and 
from beneath, as they raised it, a short, slimy 
snake rolled lazily out, and crawled beneath the 
smaller stones, causing only a momentary shrink- 
ing and an involuntary shudder as it flashed in the 
uncertain moonlight. 

“You take the bar while I hold up the stone ! ” 
said Gaspard. “Quick now, woman, for it’s 
heavy ! ” 

Her hands shook w T ith agitation as she grasped 
the cold iron, and pressed it dow T n into the firmly 
bedded earth. It resisted her efforts to drive it 
down, and at a second trial crashed through some 
slight impediment. 

“ ’Tis here, Gaspard — I have it now, at last ! ” 

They moved the stone away, and with the iron 
bar, working w T ith all his speed, Gaspard threw 
away the sand and loose gravel, and uncovered a 
rusty iron box, not large, but shallow, from which 
the top had been partly broken when the iron was 
driven down upon it. 

There was not a word spoken by the expectant 
treasure-seekers. The secret of a life-time was 
hidden in that iron box — there was a chance now 
of escape for them both from the thraldom in which 
Jean Duprez had held them for so long. 

Still in silence, Gaspard knelt down, and raised 
the box from its bed. It was an heir-loom of the 


A TRIP OF EXPLORATION. 


269 


former owners of the castle ; the private papers of 
the late marquis, the life-records of his follies or 
his misdeeds were wont to be kept in it, and Lisette 
had often seen it quickly opened, and as quickly 
closed sometimes, when intrusive eyes were bent 
upon the master; Gaspard and Lisette smiled 
knowingly, as they saw it lying on the stones 
between them. 

“ You were right, Lisette,” said the man at last, 
as he extended his dirty hand to her. 

An old habit — one in which he seldom indulged 
now — had come to his aid when he saw that the 
woman had been wiser than he. He was doing 
her the simple justice of acknowledgment, nothing 
more, and as Lisette took Gaspard’s hand in hers, 
she felt that an apology for his ill-humor had been 
promptly made. 

“ It’s early morning now, Lisette, and we must 
be quick, sunlight will soon be upon us,” suggested 
Gaspard, looking upward, and preparing the rope 
for their ascent. “We must get back before 
Duprez is stirring ! ” 

She climbed up from the well, and he followed 
her, after placing the iron box within the basket, 
and securely fastening the knots which held the 
rope around it ; he was soon above, and together, 
they drew the basket up. 

To open the box was short work. It had been 
so long buried in the damp sand and ooze of the 
well-bottom that the hinges had rusted away, and 


270 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


though the lock held one side, a few blows from 
the iron in Gaspard’s hands laid bare the contents. 

The roll of papers and parchments which the 
hands of either the dead Marquis De Briennes or 
the more crafty hands of his trusted steward, had 
placed in the box were wet and musty and covered 
with blue mould, but they were precious to Lisette 
and to the man who had assisted in finding them. 

It would have been a study for an artist, the 
rapid change of expression upon the faces of the 
two anxious workers as they took the papers from 
the box, and bending down to them, unfolded 
scrap after scrap, and roll after roll, with nervous 
fingers ; they found no will. 

“It was made, I know,” said Gaspard“and the 
false one which we signed as witnesses, which gave 
Jean Duprez the charge of the estate, was made 
from a copy of the one which gave the riches to 
their proper owners. What is that ? ” 

There was a brown pacquet in the box which 
Lisette had taken in her hands. It was sealed with 
the crest of the marquis, and this seal Lisette was 
about to break. 

“ Stop, woman, stop ! are you crazy ? ” exclaimed 
Gaspard, snatching the pacquet from her. 

“Crazy, Gaspard Jarome? No more than you 
are — what is it ? ” 

Her reply was somewhat startling to Gaspard ; 
it was a quick rebuff to his strange question. A 
crazy woman would not have shown such deliberate 


A TRIP OF EXPLANATION. 


271 


forethought in planning, and her tart rejoinder 
brought this fact to mind. 

“ Not crazy, Lisette, but we must not break that 
seal. It may be useful.’’ 

He was opening the pacquet as he spoke to 
her. It had no superscription ; if it ever had, 
the dampness in the box had effectually served to 
obliterate it ; it was easily broken open. 

It contained only a sheet of yellow paper, with 
a few words traced in a nervous hand, in large, 
indistinct characters — and as Gaspard read them to 
Lisette, they furnished the key to a mystery which 
they had not expected. 

“to those after my death: I fear from Jean 
Duprez , my Spanish wife loves the castle better than 
its lord , and 1 am very sick.” 

“ Strange, very strange, Gaspard ; and there is 
no name to it,” said Lisette, taking the paper in 
her hands, turning it over, and then passing it 
back to Gaspard, without another word of com- 
ment. 

They had nearly reached the bottom of the 
box ; but one paper remained ; it was wrapped in 
a fragment of soiled silk, and tied loosely with a 
silken cord, from which the color had long since 
faded. 

The document which they had so long sought 
was found at last. The cunning of Jean Duprez, 
which had lead him to seek protection from the 


272 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


discovery of his rascality by hiding the treasure- 
box of the marquis, had for once been at fault. He 
should have added lock-picking to his list of 
accomplishments. But the haste with which he 
had been compelled to act, had given little or no 
time for caution. The sudden death of the marquis 
had brought to the castle all the inquisitive relations 
of the marquise, and Jean Duprez had been com- 
pelled to work quickly. 

And so, Gaspard and Lisette had found their 
treasure in the rusty iron box. The will of the 
old marquis, in which the boys were mentioned — 
Phillippe and Louis — and in which the disposition 
of his estate was clearly devised, w~as in their 
possession. 

The document was old and written out when 
legal formulae were not observed, in a cramped, 
nervous hand, the writing of Jean Duprez, to 
whose advantage this one fact had been turned in 
the making of the second will, to which he had 
forged the signature, and to which as witnesses he 
had impressed the witnesses to the original. 

“There are the names, both yours and mine, 
Lisette ; ” said Gaspard, pointing to the straggling 
lines which they had written years before. “Now 
we will go home.” 

“Not home, Gaspard — we have still further 
work to do; — we will visit Jean Duprez.” 

And so, placing the papers inside his blouse, and 
knotting the rope about him as a girdle, Gaspard 


A TRIP OF EXPLORATION. 


273 


threw back the empty iron box, and refilled the 
well with stones and debris, and then the two 
friends walked away together. 


274 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XXYI. 

WHAT A MESSAGE MEANT. 

We left the boy Franz, leaving the house in Fried- 
land with a message of which he did not know the 
meaning. The wounded Russian officer had given 
him a piece of gold. To receive pay for work, and 
in gold, too, was altogether a new sensation to 
Franz ; he had never but once before possessed so 
great a treasure. He had hidden away near 
Duprez’s table on one occasion, while Duprez was 
telling over the money received from his tenants, 
and had stolen a gold coin from the pile which his 
master had counted ; but it was hidden among his 
forgotten treasures, and the piece of money which the 
Russian officer had given him for carrying the 
message was a largesse far beyond even his dreams 
of expectation. 

’Twas no easy matter to thread his way through 
the narrow streets, which, filled with soldiers, 
stragglers, and the population of the place, all agog 
with expectation and curiosity, rendered a passage 
to the bridge a work of time, and of some dexterity ; 


WHAT A MESSAGE MEANT. 


215 


but lie was lithe and agile, he knew the way, and, 
crushing along among the motley crowd, and 
walking faster when he reached an open space, he 
soon reached the bridge and began to cross. 

The regiments which had been ordered into the 
town were filing along the road, and crowding on 
the bridge ; so he had to work his way carefully 
against the tide of men and the crowd of horses, 
being compelled more than once, to creep along the 
railings upon the outer edge of the narrow, un- 
steady structure. 

Once across, he climbed from the edge of the 
bridge to a narrow footpath which skirted the bank 
of the river, frequently repeating the curious mes- 
sage which the Russian had cautioned him not to 
forget; while in the distance, he could see, close 
down by the water, the hut to which he had been 
directed. 

It was an ordinary chalet, built in the prevailing 
French style, and might have been, once, a boat- 
house attached to some villa residence. But 
adversity or the misfortunes of war had changed 
if into a lodging place for straggling soldiers, two 
of whom were sitting by the doorway, smoking; 
between them, upon a rude table constructed from 
a barrel, were a couple of bottles of German wine. 

They paid little or no attention to the lad as he 
approached, until he stood before them, and with a 
quizzical look, scanned them both. 

One, dressed in the dirty uniform of a Prussian 


276 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


private, had thrown down his spike-topped helmet 
cap, and with a soiled kerchief bound about his 
head, was arguing some point of difference with his 
comrade, who wore the partial uniform of a French 
veteran ; but he was a disgrace to the grand army 
— a renegade, and a deserter. The questions or 
answers of the first soldier were given in a mixture 
of low German and poor French, while the con- 
versation of the deserter was carried on in well 
chosen words correctly accentuated. 

“ Are you called Falco ? ” was the lad’s query, 
when a strict observation of the two men had con- 
vinced him that he had found the place and proba- 
bly the men he searched for. “ I want to see you, 
if you are.” 

The man turned quickly, and could not suppress 
a smile at the grotesque appearance of the boy, 
and then, pouring out another stoup of the wine, 
he answered : 

“No — I am not called Falco, and you don’t want 
to see me.” 

“ Then you are Falco ? ” 

The question was addressed to the other soldier, 
and would have been answered, had not a third 
party appeared in the doorway of the house, and 
emerging, joined the group. 

He was a tall, commanding man, with a close- 
knit frame, a heavy, bristling beard, and a com- 
plexion which, from exposure to the sun and the 
weather, had grown from what might once have been 


WHAT A MESSAGE MEANT. 


277 


an olive brown into a reddish hue. Across his 
forehead, just above the eyes, was an ugly scar, the 
mark of a deep wound, and a some time narrow 
escape. 

The boy suddenly bethinking himself of the 
description given him by the officer, brushed past 
the two soldiers and stood in the doorway by the 
new-comer. 

“You are Falco ? ” 

“Yes, I’m Falco, at least that is what they call 
me ; what do you want of me ? ” 

“ I have a message for you from a soldier who is 
wounded ; come here, and I’ll tell it to you ! ” 

He spoke in an authoritive manner, and a clear 
tone — so much so, that the two drinkers laughed 
at him. He did not heed their laughter, but pull- 
ing Falco inside the house, whispered in his ear 
the message which he had been told to give him. 

The man manifested just the least perceptible 
surprise at the order, and asked a few questions of 
the lad regarding the wounded officer, who seemed 
to be well known to him — as indeed, he should 
have been. 

The man who, by his daring entrance into the 
French encampment, had effected the surprise, had 
wounded Pierre Niege, and had carried off Marie, 
was the trusty servant-in-ordinary to the Russian 
officer on whose errand Franz had come. Falco 
was well paid for his services, and while the pay 
lasted, he was faithful to his employer — but faith- 


278 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


ful only where his own best interest told him that 
maintaining allegiance to this employer was the 
proper thing to do — his service was profitable, 
dangerous as it sometimes was, but the renegade 
Frenchman who had risen from the indignity of a 
deserter, to the onerous position of a successful spy, 
did not stop at trifles. 

His early education had been that of a moun- 
taineer in Alsace, but the fortunes of a rough life 
aided by some slight indiscretions which were 
transgressions of the laws, had rendered a serveil- 
ance by the authorities inconvenient to his perma- 
nent residence in the neighborhood of his brigand- 
like exploits. The neighboring borders of the 
Prussian provinces were convenient, at the time, 
and just at the prime of his life, he had forsaken 
the cause of the French, and, from his knowledge 
of Alsace, became valuable, if not quite altogether 
trustworthy, to the allied forces. 

To such a man as this Franz had been dispatched 
upon an errand which carried much of danger in 
its execution, and the spy wondered why his em- 
ployer had selected so strange a messenger ; won- 
dered, in fact, till a soldier came riding up to them 
and handed him a scrap of paper — nothing more 
than a scrap from a note book — the same scrap of 
paper which we have already seen the wounded 
Russian officer give to a second messenger whom 
he had dispatched to Falco. 

There was merely a sign of recognition passed 


WHAT A MESSAGE MEANT. 279 

between the newcomer ard the renegade; a single 
glance at the idiot boy to show that he had already 
reached the scene of his new action, and the man 
was gone. 

Franz stood for a few minutes looking wistfully 
as he rode away; he took the pathway towards 
the bridge, and he could not see why the soldier 
might not as well have taken him up behind 
him on his horse — but Falco had work on hand 
just then, and the two half-drunken men who sat 
at the doorway were to assist him. 

“You come from Friedland, boy?” he asked, 
evasively attempting to conceal what he was about 
to do — “ you don’t go back to-night ? ” 

The little sense that the lad possessed at his 
command judged things as they were — he took the 
present facts of a situation for his guide, and not 
the probabilities — and he saw that there was dan- 
ger in the words the spy had spoken. 

“Yes; back to-night to Friedland, M. Falco, 
and I’m going now.” 

He broke away from the men, and started down 
the pathway before they could clearly understand 
his purpose. But the quick order to pursue him 
given by Falco to the men, was too positive to 
be neglected. The soldiers staggered to their feet 
and after the boy, winding down the river’s bank, 
while Franz increased his pace. 

He was making good headway towards the 
bridge, and had almost reached it, his pursuers well 


280 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


behind him, when the soldier who had brought 
the message was discovered, dismounted, and 
standing beside a clump of shrubbery. 

“ A ride, good soldier, if you please — you’re 
going back to Friedland — won’t you please to take 
me with you ? ” 

But the man saw another duty to perform. He 
knew the purport of his errand, and caught the 
boy roughly around the waist. It was a struggle 
of iron strength against a tired, worn-out lad ; he 
threw him up beside him on the saddle, and rode 
back to the chalet with his prisoner. 

“To the stone tower with him, fellows, and see 
that he keeps silent. They shall both be put there 
— I will meet you with the woman ! ” said Falco, as 
the boy was brought to him. ' 

Frightened as he was, Franz caught the last 
quick, low-whispered words- he saw a glimpse, 
even in his half-witted way, of untold mischief, 
and he submitted quietly to have his hands tied 
behind him, and to be taken as a prisoner, into the 
rude building. 


DUPREz’s UNCERTAIN VISITOR. 


281 


CHAPTER XXVH 

DUPREz’s UNCERTAIN VISITOR. 

It was sunrise when Gaspard and Lisette descended 
the stony road which led from the valley to the 
castle ruins. They were both weary, and Lisette 
had stopped several times to rest, but they 
were both good-natured. For a long time previous 
to this, there had been no real friendship between 
them, but the events of the past night had drawn 
them together with a common bond of interest, 
and all former ill-feeling had been smoothed away, 
and for a time, at least, forgotten. For years they 
had been under the uncertain mastership of Jean 
Duprez. Gaspard knew nothing of the secrets 
between Lisette and the ex-steward, but he remem- 
bered the compact which he himself had once 
made with Duprez, how well he had kept his part 
of it, and he knew how little Duprez hesitated at 
ridding himself of any obstacle which might 
obstruct the road which led to the accomplishment 
of his designs. The thraldom of fear and oppres- 
sion which he held over nearly all in Alsace, had 
been a thraldom which Gaspard had shared, and 


282 


TXJT TO THE TEST. 


from which he had at no time attained more than 
a partial freedom. 

Wood-cutters were stirring, even at this early 
morning hour; their hardy mountain labor com- 
pelled them to be up and away by daylight, but 
early nightfall brought them rest. The village 
inn was a carousing place for some, but since the 
army had departed over the frontier and had taken 
with it many of the best men of the village 
Jean Duprez was sure to be at home. The 
auberge , which a short time before he had fre- 
quented, he seldom visited now. He seemed to 
prefer to be left alone ; and since he had pressed 
Madame Julie Lascour to poverty and death, and 
since his oppression had compelled the object of 
his fancy to flee her home, he had become more 
surly than before, and his moroseness had gained 
him solitude and freedom for his own thoughts; 
moreover, he was more masterful than ever in and 
around the home he called his own, which was 
scarcely a home to old Lisette. 

The sight of a man coming down the mountain 
road and bearing an iron bar upon his shoulder, 
caused no surprise to those who met Gaspard ; 
they only wondered what was the cause of his 
being upon the mountains, and whether he had 
begun to work for a livelihood ; why Lisette shouTcl 
be abroad they neither knew nor cared. Her actions 
were always strange and unaccountable to everyone. 

“ You are going now to Jean Duprez ? ” Gaspard 


DUPREz’s UNCERTAIN VISITOR. 283 

inquired of tlie woman, as they came in sight of the 
cottage, about which no one seemed to be stirring. 

“ Why shouldn’t I ? He may not have missed 
me ; but it doesn’t matter if he has ; we have be- 
gun this work together, Gaspard Jarome ! ” 

She spoke quietly and determinedly; so quiet 
and so determined were her tones, that Gaspard 
accorded obedience to her wishes without a ques- 
tion. He had the papers they had discovered well 
concealed about him, and with them in his posses- 
sion, he feared neither Duprez nor his anger, and it 
mattered little to him, he thought, whether Duprez 
had waked and discovered Lisette’s absence, or 
whether he still slept in total ignorance of it. 

It would not, however, have been Gaspard 
Jarome’s choice to mdet Duprez with the imple- 
ments of his night’s toil upon his shoulder; he 
thought to dispose of them before entering the 
cottage, but his scheme was frustrated, for as they 
approached the house Duprez appeared at one of 
the windows. 

It was too late to retreat, and as Gaspard stood 
beside the woman, she placed her hand upon his 
arm, and there w T as an undisguised nervousness 
in the pressure which she gave him. 

“ He is there, you see — ” she whispered, walking 
feebly — “ my absence has been discovered.” 

“ Well, what of it ? Do you fear him so much, 
then? ” 

“Ho — no — no! ’’she retorted in a tone which, 


284 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


by its very intensity, contradicted her words ; “ the 
end may as well come now as later.” 

She exerted herself to await calmly the coming 
issue, and the two walked on together; as they 
reached the cottage door, Duprez met them. 

“ You are up early this morning, and out, I see,” 
was the only salutation which he gave to Lisette ; 
— she had expected a torrent of abuse. 

“Yes, very early,” she replied. “I have been 
up in the mountains with Gaspard.” 

“Wood-cutting, or treasure-seeking? Chasing 
legends in the moonlight ? ” 

“Not after shadows, Jean, at all events. I 
could not sleep — ” 

“ And so you went out and away for company. 
Come in ; you, too, Gaspard ; when breakfast is 
prepared, there will be enough for all.” 

The natural craftiness which never filled him, 
had been busy since long before dawn ; after over- 
hauling his papers, he had called to Lisette, and 
had received no answer to his summons. A gen- 
eral search of the house had disclosed the woman’s 
absence, and the anger occasioned at first by the 
discovery, had had time to give place to the crafti- 
ness of his character before her return. 

There was mischief in the wind, he well knew, 
but he could not account for the reason of her 
absence, and so he kept his secret fears hidden 
beneath a calm exterior, and greeted her coolly 
when she made her appearance at the doorstep. 


DUPIIEZ’S UNCERTAIN VISITOR. 285 

Gaspard was thrown off his guard by Duprez’s 
consummate coolness ; he had neither broken bread 
nor tasted wine in that house since Franz had left 
it on the day when he had held the master by the 
throat, and had measured strength with him ; 
and so doubting whether or not it were best to 
enter, he stopped by the doorstep, and threw down 
the rope and bar which he was carrying. 

“ A truce to this enmity, Gaspard,” said Duprez 5 
his bronzed and bearded face assuming a still 
deeper hue as he saw the other’s hesitation. 
Come in to breakfast with me.” 

He extended his hand towards Gaspard, and 
reluctantly, Gaspard took it ; while Lisette, to con- 
ceal her agitation, threw fresh faggots on the fire, 
and busied herself with the breakfast. 

Neither word nor look of intelligence passed 
between them, and Duprez and Gaspard sat down 
by the fire together. 

The workmen were taking their noon-day rest 
when these two men separated, and when Gaspard 
parted from his host, they seemed to be good friends. 

“ My hand in earnest friendship, now, Gaspard,” 
said the ex-steward, standing at the door and ex- 
tending his hand as he spoke. 

Without a word of answer, Gaspard took it, and 
then walked away. 

“ Doubtful — doubtful,” muttered Duprez looking 
after him ; “ well, we shall see about it, we shall 
see ! ” 


286 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE RENEGADE’S PRISONER. 

The eventful journey which Franz had undertaken, 
was fraught with more of interest than either his 
captor or the man who had sent him, knew. He 
was so used to hardship, and so careless of circum- 
stances, that he worried himself but little, so long 
as he was moderately comfortable. Since the sur- 
prise at the encampment, and during the engage- 
ment at Friedland, he had been allowed to wander 
where he chose, and to do as he pleased, with the 
privilege accorded him of either starving, stealing, 
or begging his simple rations. But he had not 
been used to luxury ; a couple of hard biscuits, a 
crust or two of dark and mouldy army bread, not 
unfrequently the refuse lying beneath the commis- 
sary’s tent, served him for a meal, and the piece of 
white bread and the thick slice of cooked meat, 
which his captors gave him, was therefore a treat 
to him, inasmuch as this prison fare was better 
than that to which he was accustomed. 

That there was something secret, and something 


THE RENEGADE’S PRISONER. 2S7 

desperate going on, even his dull faculties readily 
perceived. The whispered conversation between 
the two soldiers, and the allusions which they had 
made to a woman, quickened his curiosity, but it 
was no easy matter to discover who the woman 
was. 

As the boy seemed harmless, his captors con- 
sidered it safe to leave him alone, and in his soli- 
tude he had ample leisure to reflect in his simple 
way, upon the close scrutiny to which they had first 
subjected him. 

The strange message which the Russian officer 
had given him, had so fastened itself upon his 
mind, that he now repeated it several times with a 
bewildered expression, each time more puzzled in 
the attempt to divine its possible meaning; and 
while in this quandary, he threw himself down 
upon the hard floor of the room in which they 
placed him, and striving in vain to solve in his 
simple mind the mystery of his incarceration, he 
lay till the moonlight came shining in upon him, 
and lie fell asleep. 

It was, however, an uneasy, troubled sleep, and 
when after a time he partly awoke, and turning over, 
put the cap which he had used for a pillow under 
his other cheek, he saw the shadows of tw r o men 
cast upon the wall before him. At almost any 
other time the simple-minded lad would have been 
frightened at the shadowy forms, and would have 
cried out in his fear, but now there was the low 


288 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


hum of voices, and he aroused himself to listen. 

It was the renegade soldier and his comrade, and 
they were discussing Falco, and the work which 
he had given them to do. 

“ I tell you, Grion, I don’t like this work ! Falco 
may be well paid, but we are not, and taking this 
woman off to the old tower is ticklish service for 
us both ! ” 

The fellow spoke loudly enough for Franz to 
hear all that they were saying ; and the secret of 
the prisoner would soon be told. 

“ But we must do it, I tell you ! He has gone 
over to the tower, and we must take her there. I 
wonder who the little beauty is ? ” 

“You’ve named her rightly, — she is a little 
beauty, and a brave one, too ; she fought like a 
tigress when we carried her off, and the colonel 
won’t find it easy work to conquer her ! ” 

The last words told Franz all that he wanted to 
know ; little guessing that their other prisoner 
knew the captive woman, they had exchanged 
their idle words within hearing distance of the 
idiot boy, and he knew from the description he had 
heard, that Marie had been taken by these men, 
and so, creeping on his hands and knees to a posi- 
tion close under the window by which they were 
standing, he listened to their plan with bated breath. 

And then there was a woman’s voice, soft and 
low, but very distinct, and the three stood beneath 
the window. 


THE RENEGADE’S PRISONER. 289 

“ Is she asleep yet, Mignonne ? ” asked the rene- 
gade soldier — and then there was a momentary 
silence, and Franz thought that he could hear the 
soldier struggling for a kiss ; then there was a sigh, 
and then another struggle, and a low, chuckling 
laugh from his comrade. 

The woman whom the soldier had addressed by 
the pet name of Mignonne was simply a camp- 
follower, who, from her notorious connections with 
the officers and men had been ordered to quit the 
army, and had followed her renegade lover into 
and beyond Friedland, and, as his mistress, shared 
the plunder which he received as his portion of the 
earnings which Falco was paid for his rascality. 

To this woman’s care had Marie Lascour been 
entrusted, since her abduction from the French 
encampment ; the keen eye of the spy had noted 
her beauty, while she stood talking with Valmeau, 
and in the work of the surprise, he had directed 
her capture by the ready hands of the men who 
were prepared to execute his orders, and in the 
deep villainy of his nature he had bargained 
for and sold to the Russian colonel, who lay 
wounded in the house in Friedland, the privilege 
of her attempted conquest ; he had not even flinched 
at such a contract. 

He had taken her away from the encampment 
into Friedland, and had kept her, strictly guarded, 
in one of the remotest quarters of the tower, till 
the necessity for a change had forced him to convey 


290 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


her to the cottage near the wood where he had 
agreed with the renegade and the woman, that she 
should be safely kept. 

The woman who had been appointed her guardian 
and keeper felt no jealousy of her; in the strange 
.admixture of French life in the cities, this woman 
was one of those restless creatures who are like the 
bubbles upon champagne; she had followed the 
army from Paris, and while she was attracted by 
the form, feature, (and the generosity,) of Joseph, 
the renegade, she knew and felt that the woman 
they had placed in her charge was purer than she, 
and better. 

As soon as Franz had brought the message to 
Falco, she had received her orders, and in the drink 
which she had given to Marie with her supper, she 
had mixed a powerful draught, which, while it 
would produce sleep and stupor, was not dangerous 
in its effects ; and the two soldiers were now wait- 
ing for its proper working, to fulfil the orders 
which Falco had given them. 

The room in which they had placed the boy had 
only one window, and one door opening into a 
narrow hallway. This window was protected by 
stout, wooden bars, as is often the case in country 
stables; the door was securely fastened on the 
outside. 

“ She is asleep by this time, Joseph, so you must 
get to work ; come.” They followed her into the 
house without replying. 


THE RENEGADE’S PRISONER. 291 

Franz knew now, that Marie was in the charge 
of these men; and he threw himself down upon 
the rough board floor, with his face close to the 
opening below the door. 

Franz heard them walk away, and knew that 
something was to be done, that some plot against 
Marie was to be put into immediate execution. 

He tried the door, but it was fast ; it would move 
a very little, to be sure, when he pressed against 
it, but a stout hook and staple held it firmly, and 
he would have no means of escape by that outlet. 
He tried the window, but the bars across it were 
too stout to be broken off; there were but two, 
but they were fastened too close together for him 
to creep between them. 

There had been a fire in the room; they had 
been cooking their meals there, and the glowing 
coals were heaped together in the open fire-place ; 
a broken andiron held up one side of the charred 
back log, but its edge was not sharp, and would be 
of no use to him ; he could not hope to break the 
bars across the window with the dull iron which 
held the log of wood. 

Going again to the window he looked out; it 
was but a few feet from the ground and opened on 
the rear side of the house, from which he could see 
nothing. He listened; in the hall and on the 
ricketty stairs which led to the second story, he 
heard the sound of feet. 

Again throwing himself down upon the floor, he 


292 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


saw the flash of a light moving in the hall, and the 
footsteps of the two men, as if they were carrying 
some one between them, was all that he heard — 
there was not a word spoken. 

Just before the door, they stopped and put their 
burthen down. 

“ She will not wake up, I tell you, and this cloak 
will hide you if she does. Put it around her, and 
ride slowly, if you see any one along the river 
road ! ” It was the woman who spoke. 

“Well, well, be quick — there’s no time to waste. 
Ugh ! It’s colder than it was ! ” 

The soldier came into the hall again, and there 
was the sound of a horse's hoofs upon the road, 
and then, still listening, Franz heard them lift their 
burthen up, and heard the directions given by the 
woman as they placed the insensible girl upon the 
horse which Joseph rode; and then there was a 
second horse brought to the door, Grion mounted 
it, and the door was closed. The soldiers and 
their captive had ridden away from the cottage, 
leaving Franz still a prisoner. The night air was 
chilly even in those early days of June, and now 
that the men had gone the boy crept to the fire- 
place, and stooping, blew the embers into live coals. 
The few sparks which his breath sent up against 
the partly burned log started a blaze ; he fanned it 
with his cap, and soon there was a ruddy glare 
throughout the room. 

As he crouched down by the fire, he rubbed his 


THE RENEGADE’S PRISONER. 298 

hands in the genial warmth, and with the end of a 
charred stick, heaped the now live coals beneath 
the burning log. 

Once warm, he crossed again to the narrow 
window of his prison-room, and tried the bars. 
They were still stubborn and would not give, 
though he tried them with all his strength; just 
then, the log blazing in the fireplace, broke in two, 
and sent a bright line of sparks up the chimney. 

Suddenly across the usually dull and vacant face, 
there flashed an expression of shrewdness. The 
instinct of self-preservation is inborn, and that not 
in the human race alone, but even in creatures of 
the lower orders. It is not then greatly to be 
wondered at, if the dulled faculties of this half- 
witted changeling seemed in this sudden emergency 
to be aroused into a temporary activity, and his 
subsequent actions to partake of a degree of intelli- 
gence which he had never before exhibited. 

Seizing the broken andiron he pushed it down 
among the glowing coals, and again fanned them 
gently with his cap. It was not long before the 
iron was hot ; so hot that it lay among the coals 
almost as crimson as the fire around it ; then it was 
ready for his purpose. 

Stripping off his jacket, and winding it about 
the feet of the andiron, he held the rod extended, 
and placed the glowing point against one of the 
wooden bars which obstructed the window ; the hot 
iron eat its way into the wood, and before it cooled, 


294 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


it liad burned half way through the heavy bar. 

A second heating of the iron served to burn 
equally the other end of the bar, and then by a 
quick blow, he broke it, and thrust his head and 
shoulders through the opening. 

The neglected patch of garden was all that he 
could see ; for the house fronted upon the river, 
and past it ran the road which he supposed the 
men had taken. Laying hold of the upper bar 
with both hands, he contrived to force his feet 
through the opening, and then hanging by his 
hands, he bent his shoulders down, and caught the 
sleeve of his jacket around the bar. This enabled 
him to turn partly round, while a change of hands 
brought his body almost entirely outside, and with 
the jacket sleeve around the remaining bar of wood, 
he could stretch himself sufficiently towards the 
window-sill to force his head clear of the obstruc- 
tions. 

A moment after, he had swung himself from the 
window, and had fallen into the mass of briers and 
shrubbery ber^ath it. 

Long before this the moon had become obscured 
by clouds, and now a chilly rain was falling, and 
Franz, who had been compelled to sacrifice his 
jacket in his escape, was wet to the skin long 
before he had been many minutes outside. Still, 
despite the falling rain the night was not dark, and 
this, at least, was in his favor ; then, too, he was 
free, and possessed, so he thought, a clue to Marie. 


THE RENEGADE’S PRISONER. 295 

It was surprising how the kind girl’s gentle words 
had drawn his heart to her. He had grieved deeply, 
simple as he was, at her loss, and in the sudden 
freedom he had attained he did not forget the con- 
versation he had heard under the very window 
through which he had escaped, and the unwonted 
sagacity which had assisted him to regain his free- 
dom, would aid him in making use of the clue he 
had obtained to the whereabouts of the vivandiere , 
and render him no mean assistance to the im- 
prisoned woman, should he be successful in finding 
her. Bending close to the ground that he might 
not attract attention from the occupants of the 
house, if there were any, he crawled on his hands 
and knees to the front of the house and across the 
road to the bank of the river. Then he rose to his 
feet and paused a moment to consider. 

How to find ,Marie, that was the question ; but 
it was a question that the boy, even with his newly 
awakened wit was little calculated to solve. They 
had taken Marie to an old stone tower ; that he 
remembered, and that tower he must find if he 
could ; so having settled upon his course, albeit in 
his simple manner, he trudged along by the water’s 
edge, intent upon his mission, and having for- 
tunately chosen the very direction in which the 
insensible form of Marie had been borne by her 
captors only a short time before. 


296 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

WHAT A PRUSSIAN SPY DISCOYERED. 

Falco, Grion, Joseph: these three worthies, their 
work completed, were sitting beneath the shelter 
of an old stone porch, in one of the tumble-down 
wings of the pile into which they had taken Marie 
Niege, according to their instructions. 

Pipes, tobacco, and a bottle of brandy made 
them comfortable, despite the storm, and as such 
characters sometimes are, they were in a conversa- 
tional mood. 

“ What does all this mean, Falco ? ” asked the 
man called Joseph, filling his tin cup nearly half 
full of the undiluted liquor. “ What is the colonel 
at, this time ? ” 

The question was evidently not a pleasant one to 
Falco, who did the dirty work for the officer, and 
had just completed his latest task, and he turned 
savagely to the soldier who had with ill-chosen 
curiosity, dared to ask for such a piece of informa- 
tion. 

“It is not for you to ask, my man,” was the 
sullen reply. “ Are you not well paid ? ” 


WHAT A PRUSSIAN SPY DISCOVERED. 297 

There was enough of sarcastic wit in Falco’s 
question to arouse in the maudlin hireling a sense 
of his rascally propriety. It came to his rescue in 
a moment, and he answered : 

“ Yes, well paid enough for ordinary work, hut 
not for the work that we are doing now; it is too 
dangerous.” 

“Pshaw, Joseph ! you and Grion both forget the 
debt you owe the colonel! Remember that he 
saved you from a file of soldiers and half a dozen 
bullets, when you deserted ? Besides, it is only a 
woman, and you know — ” 

“ I know that she is a deal too good for any 
one in Friedland, Falco ; she is as pretty an Alsace 
peasant as you can find in the ranks of the grand 
army of Napoleon ! ” 

“Alsace — what part of Alsace?” asked Falco, 
suddenly. 

“ I don’t know that ; b,ut the other night while 
she was asleep, she kept talking, and she spoke of 
some one whom she called her mother, and said 
something that we couldn’t understand about 
some man called Jean ; Jean Duprez, I think.” 

Whatever there may have been in the mention 
of the name which Marie had murmured in her 
dreamy sleep, to cause the sudden pallor which 
overspread Falco’s face, that man thought it wise 
to conceal from his companions, so he turned his 
face away from the men, and laughed the matter 
off; but there was some meaning in his sudden 


298 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


silence, and he soon left the two soldiers to their 
pipes and liquor, and went towards the ruined 
tower which stood near by. 

“ Duprez — Duprez — ” he murmured to himself, 
as he walked along. “ This girl cannot be from — ” 

The approach of a soldier who spoke to him, 
stopped Falco’s soliloquy, and after a few moments’ 
idle talk with the man, he went inside the tower, 
to see the prisoner, who, it seems, had disclosed 
secrets when she least suspected having done so. 

An old crone whose face was wrinkled with age, 
and who was a fair specimen of the rude, uneducated 
German peasant, accosted him in a vulgar patois 
as he came into the squalid quarters which the 
dame in her position of cook to the men on duty, 
occupied as both kitchen and sleeping room. He 
made no reply, however, to her question of what 
he wanted, for he was master there ; passing along 
a narrow, dilapidated hall, where the stones were 
here and there in spots covered with patches of 
plaster, the most of which had long before crumbled 
away, he took a key which hung upon a nail driven 
in by one of the windows, and then passed out of 
the beldame’s sight. 

A few moments after, in one of the old dungeons 
of the castle which had been a feudal fortress 
in earlier times, he stood beside a rude wooden 
bedstead, looking down upon Marie Niege. 

The effect of the potion which had been given 
her had not quite worn away, and the poor girl 


WHAT A PRUSSIAN SPY DISCOVERED. 299 


was still sleeping soundly, though her slumber 
seemed to be restless. She was still clad in her 
vivandiere's uniform and the worn cloak of a Prus- 
sian officer which had been thrown over her when 
she was brought to the tower from her former 
place of imprisonment, was loosely cast about her. 

While Marie was still sleeping, Falco bent low 
down and looked into her face, scanning every 
feature ; and then going to the side of the room, 
he kicked one of the stones near to the floor and it 
slowly turned upon a pivot moving two of the 
stones above it, and admitting a draught of damp air 
from somewhere without ; he listened at the open- 
ing, and then pushing the stones back into their 
places, he touched Marie upon the shoulder. 

She started up wildly, and raising herself upon 
one elbow, looked at the man who was standing 
only a few feet distant. 

“ Who are you ? ” she asked in a trembling tone, 
meeting the cold glance which he gave her, by one 
which betrayed some fear of violence at the hands 
of her captor. “ How did you get here, and what 
do you want ? Where am I ? ” 

“ Safe, my pretty Alsace vivandiere ; safe with 
me, here in your pleasant quarters.” 

She looked into the face of the man before her, 
and sprang from the rude bed upon which she was 
lying as she recognized the soldier with whom she 
had struggled upon the night of the surprise at the 
French camp, and whose face she had distinctly 


300 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


seen as she was borne away from the camp as a 
captive, leaving Pierre, and — it seemed to her — all 
the world behind. 

“ Ah ! ” she exclaimed, as she met his answering 
gaze with a look of resignation as at impending 
fate — “ you are he who fought against me, a feeble 
woman, on the night of the surprise; it was a 
noble capture, truly ! ” 

“ Noble or not, vivandiere , my epaulettes were 
the reward for it ! Captain Falco is my title now, 
and my rank is due to your sweet presence ! ” 

He approached her slowly, and extended his 
hand to her in mock civility. 

She started away from him, and standing close 
against the wall, motioned him threateningly back. 

“Stand off! Your presence would be more 
pleasing to me were these prison bars between us. 
You have me in your power, though not for insult, 
— though your dungeon walls be thick enough to 
drown a cry for help or an appeal for mercy ! ” 

“ Then the less will be your chance of breaking 
through them, my Alsace beauty. But tell me, 
what would you give for liberty ? ” 

“ It would be of little value to me now, perhaps.” 

“And why not? Are there none whom you 
love, none whom you would wish to be with 
again ? ” 

“Yes, one — my husband — whom you yourself 
struck down and murdered, foully, while he was 
fighting bravely ! ” 


WHAT A PRUSSIAN SPY DISCOVERED. 301 

“ But you may be released — ” 

“Not at the ransom you would be sure to de- 
mand of me. Who are my persecutors ? Why am 
I kept here? 1 have some rights of exchange, 
perhaps ? I am a vivandiere of the French army ! ” 

u I know it, and that may procure you freedom,” 
said Falco, warily. “You were with Marshal 
Davoust ? ” 

“ Yes ; what of that ? ” 

“Then tell us their plans and resources; you 
were the favorite of your captain — what were the 
plans laid out for the campaign after the retreat 
from Friedland? ” 

“ I do not know — vivandieres are not taken into 
the confidence of the marshals of France,” replied 
Marie, at a loss to understand the intention of such 
earnest questioning by one of Falco’s rank. 

“Excuse me, vivandiere , but you do know them, 
and they shall be told ! ” 

He moved towards the door, as though he would 
summon some one to his aid, but she sprang before 
him and placed herself between him and the door, 
before which a sentinal, who did the double duty 
of guard and jailor, slowly paced. 

“ Stay, Captain Falco ! If I knew all that they 
did, I would not tell it, were it at the price of liberty. 
It is not the habit of Julie Lascour’s daughter and 
Pierre Niege’s wife to lie, at least to such as you ; 
she tells no falsehoods to a renegade who plays the 
spy upon his countrymen ! ” 


302 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


The man did not appear to heed the last words ; 
his face was of an ashen paleness, hut there was no 
visible excitement in his manner as he asked — 

“ Julie Lascour, of Alsace ? You are — ” 

“ The daughter of Madame Julie Lascour, of the 
Canton Alsace ; do you know her ? ” 

“And your father, Jacque Lascour, is he dead 
or living, girl ? ” 

“ He died before my birth. But you start ! 
Why do you ask these questions ? ” 

Falco did not answer for some time ; he paced 
the narrow limits of the dungeon with a steady, 
measured step, till she spoke again ; and then he 
turned, and coming close to her, said, in a cool, 
clear tone : 

“You are Jacque’s child, and Julie’s! I am 
glad of it — very glad — ” 

“Then you knew my mother and my father? 
I may hope for mercy ? ” 

She saw a ray of hope dawning in the questions 
which had been asked of her, and she sank upon 
her knees and clasped her hands imploringly. 

“ Stand up, girl ! stand up ! this is no time, nor 
place to beg for mercy! You would like to hear 
my story ? you shall have it. I once loved your 
mother ; she was living at the Castle De Briennes, 
and she was called Julie Marchaud then. But I 
sued for her love in vain, for your dead father, 
Jacque Lascour, had a comelier face than I, and 
Julie Marchaud loved him. Well, I met this 


"WHAT A PRUSSIAN SPY DISCOVERED. 303 


Jacque Lascour face to face; we quarrelled — then 
we fought; I wounded him, (would that I had 
killed him !) and fled from Alsace, to lead a wild 
life in the Pyrenees with my merry comrades, my 
carabine, and my pretty Spanish women! You 
have heard of Jean La Sang ? ” 

It was a strange look he gave her as he spoke, 
for she had started back in terror at the mention 
of a name which had been spoken in Alsace only 
with fear and bated breath, as one of the boldest 
robbers of the Spanish borders, a fugitive from 
Alsace for some dreadful crime. 

“ Bloody Jean, they called him ? Yes — he was 
taken by the soldiers, and the night before his 
execution, the prison was burned, and his bones 
were found in the ruins afterwards.” 

“ Then the ruins lied , girl ! He called the jailer 
to him when he brought his food, and choked 
him — aye, till his eyes started from their sockets, 
and his face was black and livid — then he unlocked 
his shackles with the jailer’s keys and changed 
clothes with him! I was Jean Le Sang! 1 fired 
that prison, and stood by to see its heavy walls 
fall in ; in Switzerland I was unknown then, and I 
went there at first, until I joined the French; but 
I left them when I found the Prussian colonel 
would pay better for my work ; he paid me well 
for stealing the pretty vivandiere for him ! ” 

“ You are Jean Le Sang ! God help me then, 


304 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


for if you hate my mother, you will show no mercy 
to her child ! ” 

“ Yes ; such mercy as the French would have 
shown to me for avenging the wrongs your father, 
Jacque Lascour, had done me ! Mercy, you say ! 
You shall have it, girl, and soon, such mercy as I 
show, for you are not the colonel’s prisoner now, 
but mine ! ” 

He turned upon his heel and left the dungeon ; 
Marie heard the heavy door grate upon its rusty 
hinges, and then she could hear the measured 
tread of the sentinal; nothing more, except the 
beating of the water against the tower walls, from 
which there seemed to be no escape for her. 

After a few moments she seated herself to ponder 
upon the strange scene, when she heard steps before 
the door of the dungeon ; a narrow grating, barred 
with iron, was opened, and Falco looked in at her 
for a moment ; then it w^as closed again and she 
heard the sound of voices in the passage way. 

There seemed to be two persons speaking ; their 
voices were loud, and in one speaker she recognized 
the tones of Falco, — the other was strange to her. 

“ I won’t do it, I tell you ; there has been blood 
enough already ! ” She could hear the words 
plainly, for the speakers were close to the door ; 
then there was a struggle and a heavy fall. 


AN ESCAPE NOT COUNTED UPON. 


305 


CHAPTER XXX 

AN ESCAPE NOT COUNTED UPON. 

Intent upon his purpose of finding Marie, the hoy 
Franz had followed along the river road, until he 
reached the tower. As he stood before the gloomy 
walls he felt sure that within them Marie was im- 
prisoned ; but he was worn with fatigue and hunger, 
and as no present plan for rescue suggested itself to 
his simple mind, he crept beneath the shelter of a 
narrow archway half concealed among the thickly 
grown shrubbery which grew around the walls. 
It was the accumulation of years of undisturbed 
growth, and was matted and thick from intertwin- 
ing without hindrance, with the ivy which hung in 
heavy festoons from the weather-stained walls. 

It was a dark, damp passage-way into which he 
had crept, and within a few feet of the opening, it 
grew larger and he was enabled to stand almost 
erect. The wall was laid in courses of stone, which 
had been held in place by some sort of heavy 
mortar which still retained its hold. But the air 
was close and suffocating, and he feared to venture 


306 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


farther, though curiosity led him to explore the 
passage. 

He knew enough, however, to see that it de- 
scended gradually, and that it extended somewhere 
beneath the tower ; — also that it had been lately used 
by some one for a shelter, for there was a broken 
camp-kettle and a few bones from which the meat 
had been picked off, and the ashes of a fire which had 
been built next to the wall were still warm as though 
the cooking had been lately done, and the place a 
frequent resort for some of the soldiers who hung 
about the river and the tower. 

The lad knelt upon his hands and knees to ex- 
amine the place, he heard when heavy footsteps near 
him ; Grion and his friend came around the corner 
of the tower wall, and seated themselves in the 
opening, from which Franz retreated into the dark- 
ness of the uncertain passage. 

A few biscuits and a bottle of brandy were pro- 
duced by the two soldiers, and breaking the neck 
from the bottle, they sat down near the place where 
the fire had been built and began their bout of 
carousal, while Franz lay hidden a few yards away. 

“So the captain struck you, did he, Grion?” 
asked the second soldier — “ and you bore it like a 
coward ? ” 

“Yes, if it is cowardly to strike back at a man 
who is armed, and who is desperate enough to kill 
anyone without reason, as he would have killed 
the girl.” 


AN ESCAPE NOT COUNTED UPON. 


307 


“ What ! kill the little beauty that he stole away 
from the French camp, Grion ? ” 

“Yes; the job he wanted me to do was to enter 
by the secret passage and kill her, before the 
colonel should come to claim her.” 

“ And the story to be told to him — would Falco 
have told that also ? ” 

“ A blow from a dagger would have done the 
business for the woman, and it would have been 
thought a suicide — that’s all,” chuckled Grion. 
“ But I'll be even with him yet, for that blow ; 
I’ll steal the woman for myself before to-morrow 
morning, if you’ll join with me.” 

“ That I will, man, if it’s to the death. What’s 
your plan ? ” 

“This passage leads to the place where she is 
put. I know it well, and how to reach it. She 
will be glad of the chance to escape, and under 
that pretense I will get her away. Once in my 
power and yours, we’ll make enough in ransom for 
the little beauty to let Falco do his work himself 
after this. Is it a bargain ? ” 

“Yes, a bargain; when will you begin the 
work ? ” 

“In an hour ; meet me here and bring a cloak 
with you, and a rope, for the vivandiere may per- 
haps be troublesome ! You go now, we must not 
be seen together ! ” 

The two men separated, and Franz, crouching in 
the darkness of the passage-way groped after them 


308 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


to the entrance. They had parted in silence, each 
going in a different direction, and the lad started 
to his feet, and watched them out of sight. 

“ Marie is here,” he said, in a mumbling tone ; 
“ this dark place leads to where they’ve shut her 
up ; it’s very dark, but I’ll try it ! ” 

He stooped down quite to his knees, as the roof 
of the passage-way forced him to do, and he found 
that with his head bent low down, he could make 
good progress. Yet he could see nothing, and 
could hear nothing. The walls were now damp 
and cold to the touch, and he felt cold, icy water 
trickling upon his fingers as he groped his way 
along. 

It seemed an endless journey in the darkness, 
but Marie was in danger — he knew it all now, and 
he kept feeling his way along till his hands, out- 
stretched before him touched a smooth stone wall 
which apparently blocked his way so that he could 
go no farther. 

He looked back, but not a glimmer of light 
penetrated to him from the entrance, for the tunnel 
had wound from its course and struck the foot of 
the tower on its opposite side, almost next the 
river, running parallel with it, till it reached its 
terminus. 

Thoroughly frightened at the loneliness and the 
darkness, the lad shouted again and again in his 
fear. But no answer came to him ; the sound of 
his feeble voice could scarcely penetrate to the en- 


AN ESCAPE NOT COUNTED UPON. 309 

trance of the winding passage, and even if that 
were possible, it could only have fallen upon the 
ear of some rude soldier whose superstition would 
doubtless have attributed it to some supernatural 
cause, or to the agency of some uncanny spirit. 

Ceasing his cries he again groped about him ; 
there was nothing that he could find, except a few 
loose stones, — no doorway, no bolt, no chain, — 
nothing to guide him in his search. The face of 
the wall seemed all the same, as he pressed against 
the stones and knocked upon them with one of the 
pieces which he had picked up. 

One of the stones which he struck by chance, 
gave forth a broken, uncertain sound ; he struck it 
again and again, sobbing in his impotent wrath ; 
weary at last of his futile efforts against the appar- 
ently solid masonry, he threw himself against it 
with considerable force ; as he did so, it seemed to 
yield to* his pressure; a crevice opened through 
which a faint light shone, and a welcome draught 
of air blew upon his hot face ; then the stone moved 
slowly around upon a pivot, carrying the one above 
it also, and making an opening through which the 
boy could creep. 

The light which he saw was from the lamp left 
burning in Marie’s dungeon, and he crept through 
the aperture, and entered the prison where she 
was lying, holding the displaced stones apart with 
his hands, and calling to Marie in a loud whisper. 

“ Who calls me ? Is it you, Pierre ? ” asked the 


310 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


girl, in a startled voice; she had been asleep, 
dreaming, perhaps, and at the mention of her name, 
she sprang to her feet. 

“No, not Pierre, but me, Marie; don’t be afraid, 
it’s only Franz ! ” 

“ You here ! Good heavens, how is this ? ” 

“ I don’t know, Marie ! But give me that 
stool and jug; quick, for this loophole will close 
up again ! ” 

He still held the stone with both hands and 
nodded to her impatiently to give him the stool 
and the jug he asked for. 

She did so, and he placed them in the opening 
so that the stone might not close in upon them, 
and then turned to Marie with his arms extended. 

“ Come, Marie, come, I want you ; come away 
with me.” 

“ But, Franz—” 

“ Don’t say but any longer, I tell you ; come, 
they will be here after you soon ! ” 

He threw the cloak over her shoulder, having 
taken it up from the bed where she had dropped 
it, and laid his hand upon her arm. 

“ Who is coming after me, Franz ? It seems 
like a dream, all this — where am I ? ” 

“In a tower,” was the rather indefinite reply. 
“ Some men want to kill you, but two rascals won’t 
let the other rascal have his way. I heard them 
talking, and they are going to steal you from Falco, 
to have you for themselves, and get a ransom.” 


AN ESCAPE NOT COUNTED UPON. 


311 


“And you — how did you find me, Franz? — I 
was a prisoner.” 

“I’ll tell you all about it by-and-by, come, we 
must get away before they come to find you. It’s 
dark and lonely -where we have to go, but I came 
once, and we will find our way, I guess.” 

“No, Franz, I cannot; it is too dangerous, it 
will cost us both our lives. Go, boy, and leave 
me where I am ! ” 

She threw the cloak from her shoulders as she 
spoke to him, and sat down upon the bed in 
silence ; all her presence of mind had forsaken her ; 
she fancied she saw Falco’s cold, unfeeling face 
looking down upon her, and then her eyes closed 
and she sank upon the floor, her head falling upon 
the stones, and the bright red blood trickled down 
her forehead from a wound cut by their hard, un- 
even surfaces. 

“Come, Marie, come, I say! I want to take 
you away from here ! Don’t you hear me ? ” asked 
the lad, stooping over and raising her head in his 
arms. 

She did not answer, and her breath came in 
heavy, steady sobs ; yet she did not seem to know 
him, and he was afraid that she was dying. 

“ Don’t die, Marie, don’t die ; I’ll get you away 
from here.” 

He threw the cloak over her, and took her in his 
arms, moving towards the opening in the wall. 

It was not large enough to admit of his carrying 


312 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


her, so he placed his hack against the side of it, 
and shoved her body through ; then following it, 
he threw the jug and stool back into the dungeon, 
while the stones slowly revolved back into their 
places, and he was alone in the dark passage-way 
with his burthen in his arms. 


AN INTERRUPTED STORY. 


313 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

AN INTERRUPTED STORY. 

The action at Friedland had been the pivot upon 
which the result of the war was destined to turn. 
Crafty as Napoleon ever was, he had weighed the 
chances with all the foresight of which he was the 
master; Ney, Davoust, all, had been allotted their 
parts, and they had each faithfully performed the 
duties assigned ; the marshals of France, in obedi- 
ence to the master’s will, had seen the troops 
retreat from Friedland, and felt that some motive 
of diplomacy in which the force and weight of the 
French armies were simply the adjuncts, had been 
devised. 

The keen perception of the Emperor, who planned 
his campaigns first and played his men in battles 
as a chess-player would use his pawns, had forced 
the Russian general to accept engagement upon 
the terms which he, Napoleon, saw fit to offer, and 
the masterly retreat without being vanquished, 
which Napoleon accomplished, illustrates a page in 
his history where his stubborn character in all its 


314 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


details and its tenacity of purpose, is shown in 
the best possible light. 

So well had he matured his plans, and so effectual- 
ly had he succeeded in their execution that the 
fulfillment came, when on the raft moored in the 
river Niemen, near the town of Tilsit, the Emperors 
of France and Russia met to agree upon an armis- 
tice, and to lay the foundation of a treaty in which 
the King of Prussia, though an invited guest, held 
at a distance by Napoleon, had no voice, except 
the one privilege of assent. The Treaty of 
Tilsit, devised by the Emperor on the 23d of June, 
1807, and ratified on the 7th of July, left Napoleon 
free to order his legions, shattered and worn out 
as they were, back to the Cantons of France, and to 
the splendor and gayety of the French capital. 

There was great rejoicing in the ranks of the 
grand army when the officers announced the ratifi- 
cation of the armistice, when the news of the ex- 
pected treaty was whispered at the bivouac, and 
when the train wagons were prepared for the 
march towards France. 

When the treaty was proclaimed to the men of 
the regiment in which Fusil and Yalmeau held 
their commissions, the veteran color bearer waved 
his eagles and the men shouted for joy ; shouted, 
despite their half healed wounds and the memory 
of their terrible sufferings and privations. 

On the parade square in the fast fading light of 
the sunset, their colonel gave the expected orders 


AN INTERRUPTED STORY. 


315 


for return, and there was fresh liquor in the can- 
teens of the vivcindieres , and the camp songs rang 
out merrily, as Fusil moved around among the 
men. 

Valmeau, just arrived from head-quarters with 
dispatches, threw the bridle of his horse to an 
orderly, and came up to Fusil with a smile upon 
his countenance. 

“Glorious news, captain, glorious news, but 
then — ” 

“ ‘ But then,’ Yalmeau ! Why, man, your coun- 
tenance has changed till it has become as pale as 
the shadows of moonlight on the side of a general’s 
marquee ; you sigh like a lover who has lost his 
mistress, or as though you were sorry that the 
campaign is over.” 

“ Indeed ! I may have more reason to regret it 
than you imagine, Maurice ! ” 

“A love affair in Friedland, perhaps? Some 
blue-eyed German blonde has been teaching you 
the patois , Louis, and shooting barbed arrows from 
her bright eyes ’way through your heart, during 
the lessons ? ” 

“ No ; you seem to forget Marie Lascour — ” 

He playfully opened his vest, and handled the 
trinket and chain which hung around his neck, and 
then, glancing nervously at Fusil, he answered 
Fusil’s inquiring look with a reply which startled 
him. 

“ I have found traces of my beauty.” 


316 


PUT TO TIIE TEST. 


“ How ? Where ? In the town ? ” 

“Yes; she has been a prisoner, captured by 
the order of some Russian officer; I found the 
house where he had placed his treasure, and the 
woman who took care of her — but she is gone now, 
and no one knows where.” 

“ Gone, poor girl ! dead, I dare say, by this time ! 
she had too high a spirit to suffer insult calmly, 
and that may have been her fate ; the half-witted 
boy Franz, is missing too. I have not seen him 
since I parted with him in the street, on the day 
of the engagement in the town.” 

“ Pshaw, Fusil ! You mingle remembrances of 
that half-brained fool with remembrances of pretty 
Marie as though their fortunes were inseparable. 
I tell you that Marie has been in Friedland, but 
she is gone now, and I have lost a pretty mistress 
in this infernal campaign.” 

The words were so doubtful in their meaning that 
the remembrance of the story of the necklace which 
Yalmeau had told him, was unpalatable to Fusil. 
Faith once destroyed or shaken is hard to recover, 
and Fusil had lost his faith in Marie since he had 
been compelled to believe that she had given the 
necklace to Yalmeau as a gage cC amour. 

They had walked away from the line of tents 
and were standing by the outposts, away from the 
men, and where they were comparatively unob- 
served, so Fusil could question Yalmeau unreserved- 
ly. A few straggling soldiers only were near to 


AN INTERRUPTED STORY 317 

them, and half a dozen invalid prisoners awaiting 
exchange, whose parole of the camp gave them the 
privilege of loitering. 

“Valmeau, one word, and only one. I must 
confess it — I have honored this woman, and believed 
her a true wife; tell me again on your word of 
honor, (you swore it once before) was that necklace 
a love-pledge from Marie Niege to you ? ” 

His eyes were bent steadily upon Valmeau, and 
the hot blood mounted to the lieutenant’s forehead 
as he replied with some twinges of conscience: 
“ On my word of honor, yes ! Are you satisfied 
now? ” 

He raised his hat as he spoke to Fusil, standing 
only a few feet from him, and looking up into the 
captain’s face with an air of conscious triumph. 
He felt that the words he uttered must cut deeply 
into Fusil’s heart, and he took pride in saying 
them. 

“ Satisfied, Louis Valmeau ? Yes, quite satisfied ; 
your plan has been a good one and well worked, 
lieutenant. Poor Marie ! ” 

He raised his own hat as he turned away. It 
was all that a French officer could say, but the 
civility between them had the semblance of a 
mockery. 

Valmeau stood a few seconds only in the enjoy- 
ment of his triumph ; the sound of the distant 
drum-beat called him back from love thoughts to 
thoughts of duty, and he turned to go. 


318 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


A man with the cloak of a Prussian officer thrown 
over his shoulders, stood in the way, and Yalmeau 
turned aside to pass him, rudely brushing against 
the shoulders of the intruder, when a hand was 
laid upon his arm, to arrest his progress. 

“Stop a moment, Lieutenant Yalmeau; you 
have lied, to-day; lied, against the good name of a 
woman ! ” 

Turning his back to Yalmeau, the man moved 
away, his shoulders covered by the cloak which 
hung quite to his feet, and the regulation fatigue 
cap of the French army visible above the up- 
turned collar. 

Doubting not but that some one of the invalid 
prisoners had spoken to him, Yalmeau sprang for- 
ward, and with suddenly aroused anger, grasped the 
stranger by the shoulder, just as Fusil, whose 
curiosity had been aroused, re-approached them. 
Already Yalmeau had drawn his sword, and was 
making a thrust at the stranger, but throwing 
himself en garde , the unknown soldier turned 
fiercely towards him, and a second sword blade 
could be seen in the uncertain light. 

A moment more and the two blades had met ; 
there was a quick thrust, a parry, and then Yal- 
meau sighed, pressing his hand to his breast, and 
staggering back into the arms of a soldier standing 
near him. 

“Help, help, Fusil! I’m hurt! Look to that 
Prussian prisoner, there ! ” 


AN INTERRUPTED STORY. 


319 


But there was no attempt to escape on the part 
of his opponent ; with head bowed upon his breast, 
and shielding his face with the hood of the cloak, 
the strange intruder had dropped his sword, and 
stood leaning over Yalmeau, who had fallen at his 
feet. 

“You lied, I say again, Lieutenant Yalmeau, as 
basely as when you told the story of your escape 
from Dantzic ! ” 

With a grasp of iron, Fusil placed his hand upon 
the throat of the strange prisoner, and tore the 
cloak from the face the stranger sought to hide ; 
he gave but one glance at the countenance he ex- 
posed, and then started back aghast. 

“ Good God, Yalmeau ; it is a judgment on your 
perfidy — ’tis Marie Niege ! ” 

The work of retribution had been surely done ; 
and as Yalmeau was lifted from the ground and 
borne, fainting, back to camp, a file of soldiers 
marched to head-quarters with the vivandiere , a 
prisoner under strict guard. 


320 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XXXIL 

A DEATHBED SECRET. 

The sudden re-appearance of Marie and Franz, 
made Franz a semi-hero in the camp, but the 
wounding of Lieutenant Valmeau had thrown a 
cloud over Marie, which was a poor recompense 
for her dangers and her suffering. 

Released under parole, she was compelled to 
await her trial by court martial, being under the 
strict regulations of the army orders, and under 
the edict of Marshal Davoust, who bade her await 
the issue of the encounter, while Valmeau lay in 
the hospital delirious with fever. 

In vain Fusil exerted himself to soften the mar- 
shal towards Marie. Davoust was stern and in- 
exorable. He cherished no very pleasant remem- 
brance of Valmeau’s conduct towards Pierre Niege 
when at Dantzic, but the success of the mission 
upon which he had been sent, however much Niege 
may have contributed towards it, mitigated the dis- 
honor of his abandonment of Niege, and there was 
no one but Niege to dispute the account which 


A DEATHBED SECRET. 


321 


Yalmeau had himself given of the imperative 
necessity which compelled him to leave his com- 
rade to the tender mercies of the enemy. 

For a fortnight, Yalmeau lingered between life 
and death. The camp nursing was rough at best, 
though Fusil gave all the attention that he could 
give without a positive neglect of the duties which 
his command imposed upon him, to prepare the 
men for their return to France. 

At night he visited the hospital, and in his turn 
watched by the sick bed, and Marie had been 
assigned to temporary duty as nurse, at Fusil’s 
request; she watched Yalmeau as best she could, 
ministering to the wants of the invalid with 
the whispers around her of a liaison which some 
believed, struggling to forgive the man who had 
injured her so cruelly, and repenting, — how bitterly 
she alone knew — the fatal thrust which she had 
given in her desperation, and impelled by outraged 
honor. Her conduct was closely observed by the 
stern-browed marshal, who, strict in the perform- 
ance of his duty, but concealing beneath the dignity 
and the severity of a commander the feelings of a 
tender-hearted man, longed to exercise the pardon- 
ing power, and her faithful performance of duty he 
resolved should serve as a palliation for the offence, 
of which Yalmeau’s death would convict the 
vivandiere. 

All day long Marie had wandered about the 
tents, and nightfall found her weary and exhausted 


322 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


among the few patients, when Fusil came into the 
line of hospital marquees, and inquired for her. 

“She is there, captain, as she always is, poor 
girl,” said the staff-officer in charge, pointing to 
the tent where Valmeau lay. 

“And Lieutenant Valmeau?” 

“No better — the delirium is leaving him — a bad 
sign, very bad — go in.” 

Fusil passed into the tent where the sick man 
was lying, and where Marie was applying the cool- 
ing lotions to his wound, and bathing his forehead 
with her lightest touch. 

“ Ah, Marie, the end will soon come, my poor 
girl ; false as he has been to you, he was a good 
officer and a brave one ; we shall miss him in the 
company ! ” 

He took the hand of the wounded officer within 
his own. It was cold, damp, and emaciated, and 
it fell from his grasp as the lieutenant raised his 
eyes towards his captain. 

“ He will not know you,” said one of the nurses 
who was standing near, and had moved away only 
to make room for Fusil. “He has been talking 
strangely, and speaks of some package that he has, 
and talks of France and Alsace, and of a castle 
somewhere, and then of a hospital for foundlings — 
see, he is waking up again ! ” 

Valmeau looked up into Fusil’s face, and then 
closed his eyes as though the effort pained him; 
then trying to raise his hand, it fell back upon the 


A DEATHBED SECRET. 


323 


bed, and he moved his lips as if about to speak. 

“Maurice Fusil — old friend,” he said. “You 
are here to see me die.” 

He looked beyond them, towards the opening of 
the tent, as some one entered, and Fusil turned to 
follow the line of his gaze. 

Behind them, with his hat in hand, and with a 
face no longer stern, but sorrowful, stood Davoust, 
and, looking in upon them all, was Franz, clinging 
to the canvas of the tent, his face only visible. 

The dying man recognized the marshal, and with 
an effort raised his emaciated hand to his forehead 
and gave the salute. 

It was a touching tribute to his superior, and the 
discipline of the French soldier was a testimonial 
to rank which brought a blush to the face of the 
man who had fought his half a hundred battles. 

“I am dying, marshal,” said Valmeau, motion- 
ing them to raise him up from the pillow, and 
leaning his head upon the breast of Captain Fusil 
who answered his implied request by raising him 
in his arms. “But it is not the fault of Marie 
Niege ; she is as pure as the virgin, marshal, and 
she gave no pledge to me.” 

He placed his hand beneath the mattress and 
drew forth the trinket and chain which he had 
taken from the mvandiere on the night of the 
surprise. 

Marie had knelt beside the bed and bowed her 
head upon the coverlet. The dying man reached 


324 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


forward and put the chain about her neck ; then, 
with his gaze riveted upon the kneeling figure, and 
his eyes full of a remorseful tenderness, he made to 
the woman he had wronged, the only reparation 
that lay in his power. 

“ I have sinned against you deeply, Marie, though 
I thought it was the love I bore you that tempted 
me so sorely. But I am dying now, and I see my 
fault. The love I fancied that I felt was only a 
base counterfeit; a truly noble heart is unselfish, 
and would sacrifice itself upon the altar of love, 
finding its sweetest reward in the happiness of the 
object ^f its devotion. I am guilty of much, and 
there is no time left me in which to atone. I shall 
soon be gone, and all I dare ask is that you will 
try to forget that such a man as Louis Yalmeau 
ever lived.” 

His voice fell to a whisper as he uttered the last 
words, and faint with the exertion it had cost him 
to speak so long, he closed his eyes in a momentary 
slumber. A silence fell over those who stood about 
his bed, — that awful silence which the presence of 
death exacts — and they who stood in that fearful 
presence waited for the final struggle when soul 
should separate from body and pass into the land 
of the unknown. 

But Yalmeau had one duty left to perform, and 
he exerted all the little strength that was left him 
for its completion. Raising his hand to his neck, 
he took a small key from a faded ribbon which was 


A DEATHBED SECRET. 


325 


tied about his throat. Putting it into Fusil’s out- 
stretched hand, he spoke with difficulty the follow- 
ing words : 

“ In my box — Maurice — you will find — a pacquet 
of old papers. — You know something of my history 
— I think I should like you to know more ; — use the 
papers as seems best to you; — they might have 
been of use if I had lived; — my name is Louis 
De Briennes.” 

He sank back ; the hand which held Fusil’s re- 
laxed its hold, a grey pallor crept over his features, 
and a film came over his eyes, blinding them to 
earthly objects ; they looked into the future, not 
the present. 

Hot a word w r as spoken, even Davoust was 
silent ; with his rough, brown hand he closed the 
eyes of the dead soldier, and turned to the table 
where a desk lay open. He wrote a few lines upon 
a scrap of paper, folded it, and handed it to Fusil ; 
then, with a salute, he passed away. 

The paper which he had given to the captain 
was quickly read. Its words were few, but they 
were welcome words to Fusil, proving that his 
work of intercession had not been wholly in vain ; 
Yalmeau’s confession had had its effect upon the 
tender heart of the rough old marshal, and as a 
proof of his confidence Davoust had given the 
words of pardon to the captain of the Alsace regi- 
ment which held the bridge at Preuss-Eylau. 


326 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ Marie Lascour , vivandiere , arrested for assault 
on Lieutenant Valmeau , wctf be tried. Her 

acquittal and release is hereby ordered. 

davoust.” 


327 


THE RETURN TO ALSACE. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

THE RETURN TO ALSACE. 

Couriers had entered the towns and villages of 
France, spreading the news that Napoleon had re- 
turned to Paris ; and the peasants had put on their 
holiday dresses to receive the returning veterans of 
his army. Some, there were, whose holiday attire 
was the badge of mourning, but the intelligence 
tha a portion of Ney’s division and the greater 
part of Davoust’s had been disbanded and provided 
with transportation to their homes, w<;s glad 
new n the Yosges districts, and the little auberge 
where Gaston dealt out his wine and brandy was a 
merry one that day, when th ■ conscripts who had 
left the village when Fusil marched away came 
back as veterans, to tell the story of the war to 
those who waited their return, to exhibit their 
souvenirs of camp life and battle field, and to tell 
to those who had lost friends, the sad particu- 
lars of their deaths. 

Duprez was with the crowd of peasants which 
lined the road to receive the soldiers, and Lisette, 


328 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


walking beside Gaspard, had also followed in the 
train. 

The old enmity which Gaspard had borne Duprez 
seemed to have been forgotten, for they were often 
seen together now ; Lisette had returned to Puprez’s 
house, and the ex-steward seemed more kind to 
the old woman than he had ever been before. 

All night long the village had been full of 
rumors, and several of the younger peasants had 
gone over into the adjoining Canton to come back 
with the soldiers — for the line of march of the 
whole division lay through Alsace, and the men 
who were to be mustered out of service were to be 
dismissed at the square before the inn, while the 
column halted. 

’Twas nearly noon when the son of Gustav Ridot, 
the forgeron of the place, rode at a full run up the 
steep road upon his father’s only horse, waving his 
cap in the air, and shouting with joy. 

“ They are coming ! they are coming ! ” he cried 
again and again, as he leaped down from the horse 
whose sides were covered with foam and bore the 
deep marks of the spurs ; “ thev will soon be 
here!” 

lie was surrounded by eager questioners anxious 
for tidings of their friends, but bewildered by the 
confusion of voices, he could give but little infor- 
mation, and his replies were vague and unsatisfac- 
tory. 

Suddenly from the crowd arose a wild shout of 


THE RETURN TO ALSACE. 


329 


joy. A dark line was seen moving slowly along 
the valley, and above this dark line there flashed a 
line of light as the steel of the bayonets caught 
the sunlight upon their polished blades. As 
the line drew nearer the wildest excitement pre- 
vailed among the anxious peasants, and when 
they saw the tattered colors fluttering in the breeze, 
and the eagles nodding to the time of the soldiers’ 
steady tramp, and when the sound of the drum 
and the bugle broke upon their ears, they could 
contain themselves no longer, and their enthusiasm 
vented itself in loud and prolonged cheers; thus 
were the soldiers of the grand army welcomed 
back to their simple homes, after the long and 
tedious campaign. 

Fusil was with his company, or rather with the 
remnant of his company, and Franz, clad in the 
uniform of an artillery sergeant — which had been 
given to him by a camp-companion and which he 
wore by Fusil’s permission — kept his place in the 
line, and held a prancing horse by the bridle, as 
the soldiers halted in the square. 

Clearly and distinctly Fusil’s orders were given. 
The men of Alsace stepped to the front, and the 
roll was called. Then, after turning their arms 
over to the quarter-master’s sergeant, the men were 
dismissed, and when the rank was broken, they 
were free from the grand army and its service. 

The artist’s pencil would serve better than the 
pen to picture the ensuing scene. Bronzed and 


330 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


bearded faces were bedewed with tears as their 
necks were encircled by the arms of loving, patient, 
long suffering women. Wives and sweethearts 
faltered their welcome amid fast falling tears, 
aged men and women clasped their hands in silent 
thanksgiving that they had lived to see the sons 
whose return they had never hoped to behold. And 
children of all ages, from the sturdy and mischiev- 
ous urchins and shy little maidens, to the wee 
toddlers who had been helpless babes in arms when 
their conscript fathers marched away, stood hang- 
ing by the mothers’ skirts or threw their arms 
about the fathers’ knees, impatient to attract atten- 
tion and receive the loving kiss. 

But for Marie Lascour there was no word of 
welcome, except from old Lisette, who found time 
to take the poor girl’s head upon her bosom after 
her embrace of Franz. The old housekeeper’s 
wrinkled face was buried in the neck of the idiot 
when she reached him, and all the joy that a mother 
could have felt was shown at the lad’s return. 

“ And you too, Master Gaspard ! ” said Franz, 
proud of his uniform, and sensible, perhaps for the 
first time in his life that some one loved him. 
“ See, I am home from the wars a soldier ; see, 
Master J ean, I should have been a general if they 
hadn’t stopped their fighting.” 

With a glance of indifference towards the boy, 
Duprez advanced to meet Fusil ; but Fusil remem- 
bered too well his treachery regarding the white 


THE HETUEN TO ALSACE. 


331 


ribbon, and drew back from the ex-steward’s out- 
stretched hand. 

“ As you please, captain,” said Duprez, with a 
cold smile of impudence. “As you please — but 
your former kindness served my purpose, for the 
man has not returned with you ! ” 

Fusil could make no answer, and turning to 
Gaston, asked for a meal, and left Duprez waiting 
for Marie. 

“ At home again, Marie, and safe, I’m glad to 
see ! ” he said, as the vivandiere came towards 
him. 

“Yes, Monsieur Duprez, at home again — but 
not to meet my mother ! ” 

Duprez knew too well the temper of the woman 
he had wronged to press her further, and withdrew 
from her presence as Gaspard approached and 
offered her his hand. 

She was standing near Lisette, and as she hesitated 
to accept it, the old woman whispered : 

“ Do as he bids you, girl, he will prove a friend.” 

Hesitating no longer, she placed her hand in 
Gaspard’s, and spoke to him of Alsace and the 
changes that the war had brought ; then they 
walked away together, and entered the cottage 
where Gaspard was living. 


332 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

A COUNCIL OF THREE. 

It was a relief to Maurice Fusil after the arduous 
service he had seen, to have the opportunity to 
lounge away a month at the little village inn, 
where he was quite a hero. Gaston had assigned 
the best room in the house to his use, and he found 
so many friends among the peasants that he was 
much annoyed when orders came commanding his 
presence at head-quarters. 

Marie was grateful to him for his long continued 
kindness to her, and although she had taken her 
residence at Gaspard’s cottage, he found her always 
ready to receive him, and he and Gaspard had 
become good friends. 

As he approached the house when he went to pay 
his farewell visit, he found Gaspard, according to 
his usual custom, smoking on the doorstep in the 
early twilight. 

“I leave to-morrow, friend ; where is Marie ? ” 

a She will be here soon, captain. Have a pipe ? ” 

He accepted the offer, and the two had sat for 


A COUNCIL OF THREE. 


333 


some time smoking in silence, when Gaspard turned 
suddenly to Fusil. 

“ To-morrow, captain ? I am very sorry, for I 
have some work for you to do in Alsace. Come 
with me.” 

Fusile followed Gaspard into the house and up 
into the chamber where he slept. The box which 
Madame Julie Lascour had given into his care 
was taken from a chest which stood near the win- 
dow, and Gaspard sat down before the captain 
with the box upon his lap. 

“ First, captain, let me say, not a word of this 
to Marie ; the time has not come yet.” 

“ A secret ? On my honor as a soldier, not one 
word ; w'hat is it ? ” 

“ You remember Pierre Niege ?” 

“ I should think so ; and I remember the trick 
of Monsieur Jean Duprez which sent him off as a 
conscript in my company,” replied Fusil, warmly, 
and enjoining Gaspard to secrecy on his part, he 
recited to him the story of the white ribbon. 

“Well, that is past now; but you owe Duprez 
something for his treachery to you, and I owe him 
more still for his acts towards me. Is Pierre Niege 
dead, or is he living, captain ? ” 

“ God knows, Gaspard Jarome, I wish I did ! 
Why do you ask ? ” 

66 Because he was not Pierre Niege.” 

“ That was the name he went by here in Alsace, 
was it not ? ” asked the captain somewhat surprised. 


334 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


“ Yes ; and he himself knew no other. He owes 
a debt of hatred to Jean Duprez, greater than 
yours or mine, though he does not know it. Du- 
prez and I were always counted friends, captain, 
but it was only a sham on my part, for he had 
me in his power; I made a false step once, 
and one sin leads to another ; but the tables are 
turned now ; I know his secrets, and some time I’ll 
make them known for Marie’s sake and for Pierre 
Niege’s, if he lives.” 

“ Pierre Niege was her husband — so she says.” 

“ Yes, but she has no proof of marriage ; there is 
no record at the convent, and the priest who 
married them died years ago. Here comes Lisette.” 

The woman was trudging slowly up the road, 
and looking anxiously towards the window through 
which Gaspard espied her. Hurriedly he set down 
the box and beckoned to her. 

She was evidently expected, and Gaspard met 
her at the head of the steep, narrow stairway which 
lead to the room in which they were sitting, and 
waited anxiously till she had recovered her breath 
from the exertion of mounting the stairs, before he 
spoke to question her. 

“ Well, what news ? Did you find the man ? Is 
he the one you suspected ? ” he asked, one clause 
of the interrogative sentence following close upon 
the other. 

u Yes; but he knew nothing; the man is a 
Prussian, at least he looks more like ar old German 


A COUNCIL OF THREE. 


335 


soldier than a Frenchman; he was badly wounded, 
and has been very ill.” 

“His name, woman, his name — did you learn 
that?” 

“ Francois La Pierre.” 

“That will do. How, Captain Fusil, you shall 
,have an explanation. The day after the boys re- 
turned to Alsace, a strange soldiercame down the 
valley road afoot; he had a military cloak over 
his shoulder, but no baggage, and he stopped at 
the house of Leforge, a wood-cutter, living on the 
mountain.” 

“ There is nothing strange in that, said Fusil, 
evidently in hast ' to reach the story’s end. “ Stran- 
gers in Alsace can be no novelty in these times. 
Is the man poor ? ” 

“ He seems to be ; he will tell nothing of his 
history, but he talks, Leforge says, as though he 
knew the people here.” 

“That is not strange, either. Who did you 
think he was ? ” 

“ Pierre Hiege ; you know we never had a good 
account of him; how he died, or where he went 
to, captain ! ” 

“The poor fedow’s dead, no doubt. Died as 
many a noble hearted man has died before him — in 
the trenches, from Prussian bullets or Prussian 
bayonets. Go on with your story, Gaspard, I have 
no time to lose.” 

“ Pierre Niege, then, to make a long story short, 


836 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


must have been Phillippe De Briennes, one of the 
heirs to the old castle yonder,” Gaspard said, 
opening the box and handing Fusil the cloak which 
lay within it, and showing him the initial letter 
worked in silk upon it. 

“Lisette worked that letter and crest in that 
rery cloak, and she can swear to it. It was 
wrapped about the child that Madame Lascour 
found in the snow, just after she married Jacques, 
and which she reared as her own after her husband’s 
death. Close that door, Lisette ! ” 

Gaspard’s voice trembled as he gave the order, 
and Lisette went to the door, listened a moment, 
then, closing it carefully, returned to her seat 
beside the captain and Gaspard. 

“You have pledged your honor, captain,” said 
Gaspard, “ and I will trust you — you are a friend 
to Marie, and bear no good will to Jean Duprez.” 

“ Go on,” said Fusil, quietly. “ I shall respect 
the secret, and will aid you if I can.” 

“ Twenty years ago, I was a servant at the 
Castle De Briennes, and so were Lisette and Jean 
Duprez — he was the steward. When the marquis 
died, his pretty wife took her two twin children 
to return to Spain to her own people. They 
left the castle on a stormy morning, and Duprez 
went with them. I followed under his instructions, 
and met him on the Spanish borders. He had con- 
structed a hellish plan, and compelled my assistance 
in carrying it out, for he knew a secret of ray life 


A COUNCIL OF THREE. 


337 


which placed me in his power. The dead marquis 
had made a will — Lisette and I were witnesses to 
it — but this Duprez destroyed, so we supposed, 
and forged another which he compelled us both to 
witness ; he was my master then, remember, and 
hers too. Well, he promised me a large sum in 
gold and some of the land he intended to steal, (he 
bought Lisette’s silence too, though I don’t know 
how,) and I agreed to help him in making away 
with the twin boys. On her journey to Spain the 
mother died, and Duprez gave me one of the boys 
to be disposed of. He supposed 1 would murder 
him, but I couldn’t do that — the child was so 
pretty and so helpless, and the old marquis had 
been so proud of both the boys, and the poor 
young mother had been very kind to me, — I took 
the child to the south of France and put him into 
the box at the Hospital des Magdalenes at Toulouse, 
tossing in after him a sealed pacquet in which I 
had written his name and something of his history, 
though not enough to make discovery possible, for 
it was dangerous to me then as well as to Duprez. 
When I returned Duprez asked me no questions, 
and I did not question him ; but now I know that 
the Pierre Niege which Madame Julie found and 
adopted was the other twin boy, Phillippe De 
Briennes.” 

“ What was the name of the boy you left in 
France, Gaspard ? ” inquired Fusil, slowly, watch- 


338 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


ing the countenances of the woman and of the man 
who were in council with him. 

“ Louis De Briennes.” 

“ Enough. You did not kill the hoy, hut he is 
dead, and I can prove it. Does Duprez suspect 
the identity of Pierre Niege ? ” 

“ Ho, I think not ; if he does, he keeps his secret 
well.” 

“I have reason to think he does know it, my 
friends. The trick by which Pierre was sent away 
from Alsace as a conscript is accounted for to my 
mind. But was the will which the marquis made 
actually destroyed?” 

“ ISTo, captain. I knew from a long acquaintance 
with Duprez that he disliked to destroy old papers, 
and we — Lisette and I — thought he might have 
saved this though he told us it was gone ; so w T e 
searched for it, found it, and hid it in a safe place. 
I will show it to you.” 

He loosened some bricks in the side of the chim- 
ney, and behind them, hidden in a place made to re- 
ceive them, were the contents of the small iron 
box which Lisette and Gaspard had taken from the 
old well at the castle. 

“ The forged will to which Lisette and I were 
witnesses, placed the bulk of the property in 
Duprez’s possession, and the rest of the estate was 
eaten up in claims which Duprez found lying un- 
paid against it.” 

“There are other papers,” said Fusil, turning 


A COUNCIL OP THREE. 


339 


o,ver the documents ; “ A release from confiscation 
and — what is this ? 

Twice Fusil read carefully the words traced on 
the scrap of paper by the trembling hand of the 
old marquis, and then laid it aside with the other 
parchments. 

* These papers are valuable to you both,” said 
he — “ but what you want is the proof of Marie’s 
marriage, which cannot be found — could Duprez 
have stolen it ? ” 

“No, Franz took it from the chimney where it 
had been hidden, and Duprez had it at the inn. I 
have his own words that it was destroyed.” 

“ Then there is little hope of establishing the 
marriage ; but keep those papers, and leave the 
rest of this afiair to me. Remember, silence, and 
we may learn something from this stranger. Hush, 
Marie is coming ! ” 

There were steps heard in the room below, and 
the sound of Marie’s voice calling to them. 

Fusil descended the stairs to meet her. “ I am 
going away to-morrow, Marie, and I came to say 
good-bye to you ! ” 

She kissed him fondly as a sister might do, before 
Lisette and Gaspard came down, but not without 
beino* seen by Jean Duprez who looked in at the 
door and asked for Lisette. 


340 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

SOME INFORMATION FOR DUPREZ. 

Fusil had bade adieu to Marie, and had walked 
hack to the inn, when he espied the stranger known 
as Francois La Pierre, standing by the window 
talking with Franz, whom he had treated to a 
glass of wine and a biscuit. His back was turned 
to the light and Fusil walked up close to him, and 
signalling Gaston to be silent, called for a glass of 
liquor. 

The stranger and the boy moved away from the 
bar together and stood beside the tree near the 
kitchen. 

Fusil followed them, going back to the cook- 
room and stationing himself beside the window, 
hidden by the curtains which hung from it. 

“ Madame Lascour is dead, you say,” asked the 
stranger, giving the boy a piece of silver coin. 
“Tell me, Franz, when did she die, and how?” 

“Franz!” said the lad with a quizzical glance 
at him. “ Why, how did you know my name ? ” 


SOME INFORMATION FOR DUPREZ. 


341 


“ I heard it at the tap room yonder. When did 
Madame Lascour die, I asked.” 

“ I don’t know exactly, sir — some time when I 
was away to the war a-figliting with Captain 
F usil.” 

The stranger smiled at the remark which the 
hoy made quite with the air of a veteran, and then 
laid his hand upon the lad’s shoulder and looked 
down into his face. 

The look was such a strange one — so earnest, so 
full of inquiry, — that Franz, somewhat startled, 
receded a few steps, and stood balancing himself 
on one foot, looking at La Pierre. 

“You’re not afraid of me, I hope, my lad,” said 
the stranger, nervously; “don’t go away from 
me ! ” 

“No — Pm not afraid! You’re nothing but a 
man, and Pm nothing but a fool, and I don’t know 
enough, people say, to know when to be afraid. 
Where did you get that scar on your forehead? 
in the war ? they must have hit you hard ! ” 

La Pierre threw his hand up to his head and his 
face grew crimson as he passed his fingers carefully 
over the scar, and then pulled the dark, thick hair 
down over it. 

“Yes, I got it in the war, Franz — and it was a 
hard blow, a very hard one. But tell me more ; 
where is Marie Lascour, the vivandiere ? is she 
living with Jean Duprez ? ” 

“No, not sne; she lives in the cottage over 


342 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


there with Master Gaspard; why, Monsieur La 
Pierre, you know all about the people here ! per- 
haps you used to live in Alsace before the war, 
and have come home to die, since they didn’t kill 
you in the war ; you look as if you were going to 
die.” 

“Ko, not to die,” said the stranger, moodily, 
“ but I shall stay here awhile ; here, lad — ” he 
gave the boy a couple of silver coins, pressing 
them into his hand — “ not a word of what I’ve 
said to you ; can you meet me here at the inn 
to-night ? I have something for you to do.” 

“ Oh, I can keep a secret ! ” was the answer that 
the hoy made, as he walked away from the window, 
and the stranger passed slowly down the road, 
just as Duprez and Gaspard came into the tap- 
room. They were together, and seemingly good 
friends, though Duprez was watching Gaspard 
with a very searching gaze, and Gaspard was 
attempting to appear careless in his manner, though 
he too was engaged in studying Duprez. 

“Well, Jean, what is it now? ’’asked Gaspard, 
seating himself at one of the small tables and draw- 
ing a stool up before him on which he placed his 
feet — “ what new plot ? Haven’t you given up the 
chase after Marie yet, my man ? ” 

“Yes, yes — but something worries me. Lisette 
is getting troublesome to me ; she is useless in the 
household, and spends more than half her time at 
your place with Marie, and wastes the other half 


SOME INFORMATION FOR DUPREZ. 343 

fondling that prattling fool and listening to his 
stories of the war. Come now, Gaspard, I’ll make 
a bargain with you.” 

“What for — another piece of old rascality re- 
vived ? ” said Gaspard, with sarcastic humor in his 
looks. “Too late, Jean! I’m too old for any new 
iniquity.” 

“ I am going away from Alsace, and I want you 
to take charge of affairs for me while I am gone.” 

“Away from Alsace, Jean Duprez! What’s in 
the wind.” 

“ Toulouse — and the carpenter who took charge 
of Louis De Briennes after you placed him in the 
foundling hospital!” whispered Duprez. “Don’t 
start so, man, or they will notice us. I know the 
story, and as there is no help for it, and the will 
was not suspected, I’ll find out what history may 
remain to be learned of him before it is too late.” 

Fusil, who had followed La Pierre a short dis- 
tance, had re-entered the room where they were 
sitting, and had caught the last sentence spoken 
by Duprez. 

“No need of that, M. Duprez,” he said, standing 
by the table. “No need of going to Toulouse. 
The man you speak of died in the hospital near 
Friedland, just at the end of the campaign, and all 
the property that he had he left to me ! ” 

Duprez started from the table and confronted 
Fusil — not in anger, but in fear. Fusil had sur- 
prised him into a momentary exhibition of dismay 


344 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


which, in a second or two gave place to his usual 
craftiness. 

“Poor Louis! It is a great relief to my mind 
to obtain some knowledge of him, Fusil. The 
attack by brigands on the traveling carriage, and 
the death of his poor young mother left him to the 
care of Spanish relations who had but little love 
for him. He left some property, >ou say, — relics 
perhaps ; I would like to see them, they may be of 
use.” 

“Yes, they are of use, and at the proper time, I 
will produce them ! Duprez, I may be able before, 
long to pay the little debt that lies between us ! ” 

The captain turned away from them and said no 
more, and Duprez knew better than to question 
him. There were several idlers in the room, and 
he did not care to excite their attention ; moreover 
he was too much agitated to prolong the conversa. 
tion, even with Gaspard ; so he leaned over the 
table and whispered to him while his hands played 
carelessly with the wine bottle and the glasses. 

“Meet me at my house to-night; I have much 
to say to you, Gaspard ; that man is dangerous.” 

“No, I will not, I have* no time to waste in par- 
ley ; our game is being ended fast, Duprez ! ” re- 
plied Gaspard in the same low tone that Duprez 
had used. 

“ Then here, to-morrow morning, will you ? ” 

“Yes, I’ll do that if you wish it; to-morrow 
morning, earlv.” 

O / •/ 


SOME INFORMATION FOR DUPREZ. 


345 


“To-morrow morning be it, and come alone. 
And now, good night!” 

They parted, seemingly the best of friends, and 
Duprez did not look back as he left the inn and 
walked homeward in the twilight. 


346 


PUT TO THE TEST 


CHAPTER XXXYI. 

CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 

A light burned in Jean Duprez’s chamber through- 
out the night ; the ex-steward had ordered Lisette 
to build a fire there, although it was summer, and 
then he had retired into the privacy of his own 
room. He had drawn the curtains close to the 
windows, but occasionally when Lisette stole out 
of doors to watch, she could see sudden flashes of 
light from behind them, as if Duprez w T ere burning 
papers. The old housekeeper passed a sleepless 
night and it was almost morning when her wake- 
fulness left her and she sank into a troubled 
slumber. 

In the early morning when Gaston, the inn- 
keeper, having aroused the barmaid, threw open 
the heavily barred shutters, he saw Franz standing 
by the door. 

“ Good morning, Gaston, let me help you, please,” 
he said, following the innkeeper to the stable and 
going to work without any further instructions; 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 347 

so Gaston allowed him to continue and returned 
to the inn to prepare breakfast for his guests. 

His earliest visitor was Jean Duprez, who met 
him at the door, greeted him with a jolly word of 
morning welcome and called for brandy. That 
given him, he ordered breakfast. 

“For two, Gaston, for two; Gaspard will be 
here to meet me soon ; — ah, there he comes ! ” 

Gaspard was coming, and Duprez stood leaning 
on his cane as he approached. 

“Good morning, Jean Duprez!” was his saluta- 
tion. “ I am here as I promised, though why you 
should want me I cannot guess. Our friendship 
has been more apparent than real, of late, and I 
am curious to learn your object.” 

“Business, Gaspard, business. We have not 
been good friends of late, it’s true ; but our quar- 
rel was a foolish one, and now that the war is over, 
and all the heirs to the De Briennes estates are 
dead, let us be friends again for mutual safety. 
We parted once in anger, you with hard words — ” 

“And you in rage and disappointment, Jean. 
We shall quarrel now, perhaps, and I will have 
nothing to do with this offer of yours ; we had 
better part before it comes to worse.” 

“ Tut, tut, man ! that is no way to talk. Come, 
let us breakfast, and then if you choose to go — so 
be it ! ” 

The meal which Gaston had prepared was put 
upon the table, and the two sat down to it quietly, 


348 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


maintaining for some time a silence which Duprez 
was the first to break. 

“ Better friends than enemies, Gaspard. I began 
the quarrel, years ago, but we should trust each 
other now for the sake of old acquaintance and the 
secrets which lie between us. We can at least 
agree not to quarrel in our later years, and I will 
manage this affair myself, if you will not aid me. 
Here, Gaston, brandy, and of your very best ; stop, 
I will pull the cork myself! ” 

He arose from the table and picked out a bottle 
from a number that stood on the shelf, and brushed 
the dust away from the cork. It was old liquor, very 
choice, such as Gaston furnished only to his best 
visitors who chose to pay for it. So pre-occupied 
was Duprez in making his selection, that he did 
not notice the entrance of Franz, who crept 
stealthily into the room and passed behind the 
screen which hid the door leading to the kitchen. 

Two glasses were provided, and drawing the 
cork from the bottle, Duprez proceeded to fill them 
with the liquor, growling, as he did so, at Gaston, 
for the careless way he washed his glasses ; they 
had a brown, dirty look, but he filled them both 
nevertheless, and passing one glass to Gaspard, he 
tasted the liquor in his own. 

“Bah! good brandy in a dirty glass is poor 
stuff! Throw it out, Gaspard, and the glass after 
it ! ” he said, handing the tumbler to his comrade, 
who simply smiled at his ill-humor, and going to 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 


349 


the door, tossed liquor and glass out into the 
road. 

Gaston saw the movement and was vexed at it, 
but he merely looked at Gaspard, and did not see 
the quick motion of Duprez, who placed his hand 
in the bosom of his vest and drew from its place 
of concealment a small phial holding a few drops 
of some colorless liquid. Hurriedly he poured its 
contents into an empty tumbler which he filled 
with brandy before the man returned to his seat. 

Before Gaspard had fairly seated himself, Franz 
came from behind the screen and approached the 
table. 

“I may have some breakfast, Master Jean?” he 
asked, in a foolishly unconcerned manner, with a 
half-witted smile upon his foolish face. He spoke 
with a degree of assurance which roused Duprez to 
anger at the lad’s presumption. 

“Yes — in the kitchen, but not here in the tap 
room. Gaston ! give this brat some bread and a 
stoup of wine or coifee. Now, begone ! ” 

As he spoke, Gaspard, fearing some outburst of 
cruelty towards the lad, and hoping to distract 
Duprez’s attention by moving as if to go, rose 
again from his seat and walked to the door. He 
succeeded in his design, for Duprez rose also and 
followed, urging him to return to the table, and 
pleading that he had something to say to him. 
Gaston had gone from the room, and thus Franz 
was left at the table un watched. 


350 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


Attracted by the brandy which he loved quite 
too well, the lad raised the glasses from the 
table, holding them to the light as he had seen 
his master do. Then casting a look at the two 
men who still stood in the doorway, he hastily 
sipped a little from Duprez’s glass, when, startled 
by the motion which the men made to return, he 
put the glasses down again, but in so doing changed 
their position, placing by Duprez’s plate the brandy 
which had been intended for Gaspard. Then fear- 
ing a blow from Duprez if he should linger, he left 
the room as the two men pledged each other in 
their after breakfast draught of Gaston’s oldest 
brandy. This ceremony completed, they went 
away together, as Duprez was anxious to avoid 
Fusil, who had just then sauntered into the tap- 
room, meeting at the door the strange soldier, 
known as Francois La Pierre, who had been a 
guest at the aiiberge over night. 

As the two men stood face to face, Fusil greeted 
the soldier with the words of an old campaigner. 

“ Seen service, friend, I take it ? ” 

“ Perhaps ; replied the stranger, evasively. 

“No perhaps about it, my friend,” said Fusil, 
laying his hand upon the man’s shoulder, “ the scar 
on your forehead just showing beneath the hair, 
betrays you ; it is a sabre wound. Pve seen too 
many not to know their scars when I see them.” 

“ Yes, I have seen service.” 


CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE. 


351 


“And you are not a stranger in this neighbor- 
hood, I take it, either?” 

“ Why so, captain ? ” 

“ From the inquiries you have made of the idiot 
lad, Franz.” 

“Well, you are right; I am not a stranger here, 
and I know the people — -better, perhaps, than they 
know me ! ” 

The man spoke in a strong tone, raising his eyes 
towards Fusil; there was a gleam of sunlight 
shining on his face as the window curtain was 
suddenly raised by Gaston, and the eyes of the two 
soldiers met — Fusil’s look was frank, open, and 
earnest, and the stranger’s frank, open, and con- 
fiding. 

“ I have questioned others than the lad, captain, 
and I have learned some secrets. Come with me, 
please ; we are watched by the landlord, and I do 
not wish to be discovered here.” 

The words with which he closed the sentence 
were timely, for the stranger had been recognized 
by the man with whom he spoke. 

“You are Pierre Niege,” exclaimed Fusil in an 
undertone, as they removed to a remote corner of 
the room. “ You are here in time to be of service.” 

Suddenly there was a confusion of voices at the 
door, and a shout from some one without, calling 
Gaston from behind the counter. At the roadside 
stood Franz, his face white with terror. 

“Master Jean, oh, Master Jean! I found him 


352 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


lying dead by the road. They have taken him np, 
and are carrying him home now ! ” 

At a little distance, half a dozen stout men could 
be seen approaching the inn, bearing on a rude 
litter an apparently lifeless body ; they passed 
the inn door with a steady step, while new faces 
were constantly being added to the crowd, which 
cast angry looks at those standing with the idiot 
boy in the tap-room door ; the terrified lad prattled 
incessantly about finding Duprez dying by the 
roadside, till Fusil stopped his talking. “Hush, 
boy, hush, for God’s sake! La Pierre, there is 
some mystery here ! let us see to it ! It looks as 
though the lad had killed him.” 


THE IDIOT’S WORK COMPLETED. 


353 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

THE IDIOT’S WORK COMPLETED. 

The circumstances which had cast a mystery over 
the death of Jean Duprez, gave it very much the 
appearance of a murder, and the anxious crowd 
which had assembled before the door of the aeburge , 
followed the bearers of the corpse to the cottage 
recently occupied by the deceased. 

The necessary inquest was conducted by the 
notary of the village; upon examination of the 
body several severe contusions w r ere shown, evi- 
dently occasioned by a heavy fall, and upon the 
head was a sharp cut. Suddenly overcome by the 
poisonous draught, (which he had intended for 
Gaspard, but w T hich had been exchanged for his 
own unadulterated wine by Franz’s thoughtless 
handling of the glasses) Jean Duprez had fallen 
by the roadside, and a sharp-pointed stone had 
inflicted the cut upon his head. But there was no 
other witness of his death but the half-witted boy, 
and the wound upon the head might have been 
produced by some sharp blow from behind. There 


354 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


was a strong chain of evidence against the lad. 
Gaston and Gaspard Jarome gave their testimony, 
though the latter spoke reluctantly and with a 
strong feeling of pity for the boy — and each cor- 
roborated the other as to the fact that Duprez had 
given hard words to the lad only an hour before 
his death. 

“ It must have been the boy that killed him ! ” 
shouted one of the Wood-cutters — “there was an 
old grudge between them ! ” 

“ Aye, the boy ! the boy ! ” was the cry which 
ran through the crowd, and was carried from 
mouth to mouth. “ Let the idiot be secured ! ” 

To speak was only to act, with the wood-cutters 
of the Vosges; strong hands were laid upon the 
boy, while a returned soldier raised the but of his 
carabine to strike him. 

But one who had always been ready to protect 
the boy was ready now — Gaspard Jarome sprang 
upon the soldier and wrenched the weapon from 
his hand. 

“ Stand back, men, and give the lad a chance ! 
He may yet be innocent.” 

The crowd surged nearer to him, and the lad fell 
down at Gaspard’s knees and begged for mercy. 

“ Indeed, indeed, Gaspard, I did not kill him ! ” 
he exclaimed. “I found him lying by the road 
when I was going home. He said he had been a 
wicked man — wasn’t that a queer thing for Master 
Jean to say ? — and that he had drank some poisoned 


THE IDIOT’S WORK COMPLETED. 355 

brandy which he meant Gaspard should drink, and 
he asked me to hurry off for help ; I ran to find 
some men, and when we got back he was dead. 
Oh, don’t let them hurt me, Master Gaspard, I am 
telling you the truth.” 

As the boy spoke, La Pierre had started towards 
Gaspard, and old Lisette had forced her way 
through the crowd, and had fallen on her knees 
beside him. 

“ Stop, men, if you be not cowards ! ” exclaimed 
Fusil. “ It may be that he tells the truth.” 

“ Yes, that boy is innocent. I’ll answer with 
my life for his integrity ! ” 

The words came from La Pierre, who now spoke 
for the first time and who had just made room for 
Marie; she had heard the news, and showed 
anxiety concerning the fate of Franz. 

“ You vouch for him ? ” asked the notary. “ But 
we do not know you.” 

“ Then you shall know me as well as you have 
known good Master Jean Duprez. That boy has 
done no murder; he was with me nearly all last 
night, and I saw him at the inn this morning.” 

“But who are you, I say?” shouted a brawny 
wood-cutter, brushing up towards him. “Some 
Prussian spy perhaps, or a deserter from the army — ” 

The man who had approached the stranger, 
aimed a blow at him with the short, knotted stick 
he carried ; Franz saw it ; springing quickly to his 
feet he caught the blow upon his head and shoul- 


356 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


der, and sank back with a cry of pain at Gaspard’s 
feet. 

“ Coward ! ” hissed La Pierre, grasping the 
man by the throat and dealing him a crushing 
blow upon the face. 

“ You know me now, my friends, and may be- 
lieve me ! See, I am no stranger to you all ! ” he 
shouted, as he bore the wood-cutter to the earth 
and placed his knee upon his breast. “I will pro- 
tect the boy, for he is innocent. I am Pierre 
Niege!” 

He tore the false grey beard from his face, and 
the close-fitting wig which he wore upon his head, 
and before the crowd of excited peasants stood a 
man whom they had long thought dead. 

“ Here in Alsace, I brand the dead man for a 
villain — ” 

He was interrupted by a cry from Marie, who 
threw herself upon him and buried her head in his 
bosom and whose frail form shook with a tempest 
of sobs. 

Pierre threw his arms about her and drew her 
closer. For a moment he forgot everything but 
her presence. 

“ My wife, my noble wife,” he murmured in her 
ears, “ I was a monster to doubt your purity ! But 
you have not learned to hate me for my cruelty, 
and forgive me like the angel that you are ! Thank 
God I have you in my arms again ! ” 

Pierre’s words could not be heard by those who 


THE IDIOT’S WORK COMPLETER. 357 

stood near wondering at liis sudden appearance, but 
they gazed at the couple in silence for a time, 
awed by their emotion and by the shock of the 
discovery; then there arose a murmur in the 
crowd ; the villagers had been disaffected towards 
Marie and towards Pierre Niege ever since Marie 
had failed to produce the marriage scrip she had 
affected to possess; they thought Pierre had 
attempted to shirk the conscription, and that 
Marie’s claim to the name of wife was a false one ; 
so now there was a re-action, and the touching 
re-union of Pierre and Marie which had at first ap- 
pealed to their sympathies and aroused many an un- 
bidden tear, caused a feeling of repugnance among 
the matrons, and outspoken dislike among the 
maidens who had themselves looked with favor 
upon Pierre Niege’s lithe, manly figure, and comely 
face. The word “coward” was spoken in tones 
sufficiently loud to be heard by Pierre. He re- 
leased Marie from his close embrace, and turning, 
faced the crowd with flashing eyes and indignant 
face. With difficulty the notary quelled the rising 
disturbance. 

“ Do not be angry, Niege,” he said, “ the people 
mean no harm, but they cannot forget that you 
could show no proof of marriage when it would have 
saved you from the war, and so they think Marie 
is not an honest woman.” 

Gaspard had stood in silence for some time, 


358 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


apparently in deep meditation, but now aroused 
by the words of the notary, he spoke : 

“You are mistaken, Gerard Eedoule, there was 
a proof, but it was stolen by the boy who did not 
know its value, and Duprez destroyed it.” 

“ How do you know that ? ” 

“ From Duprez himself ; he took it from the boy. 
But now listen to me, for I have a startling an- 
nouncement to make : this man is no longer Pierre 
Niege, the foundling. He is Phillippe De Briennes, 
one of the twin boys whom all thought dead 
twenty years ago. But they did not die, though 
Duprez meant to murder them and tried to make 
me help him. It is a long story, and it must be 
told first to M. Bedoule, the notary, but you may 
be sure that there is no mistake. Lisette has the 
proot of Pierre Niege’s identity as Phillippe De 
Briennes, and I have the genuine will of the old 
marquis — the one you all know of was forged by 
Duprez; — Niege will be sole heir now, for the 
other twin died in the late war; Captain Fusil 
possesses all his property and papers, and he will 
bring them forward at the proper time. I wish 
from the bottom of my heart I could produce 
Marie’s marriage scrip, but I swear to you that 
there was one, and that Duprez destroyed it.” 

“ I stole the paper, did you say, Master Gaspard ? 
Yes, I stole it from the chimney where Marie put 
it while I was playing ; I didn’t know it was good 
for anything; but Master Jean Duprez did not 


THE IDIOT 1 3 WORK. COMPLETED. 350 

burn the paper, I got it away from him, and I can 
find it if you’ll help me ! ” 

He was very weak, for the blow had grazed his 
head and inflicted a deep wound upon it, which 
was not seen until now. 

“ Please help me, Captain Fusil ; take me over 
to the cottage where Madame Lascour lived ; it is 
only in the valley a little way.” 

He pointed down the path towards the brook 
which ran through the valley, and supported 
by Fusil and Gaspard, and followed by the 
notary, Lisette and Pierre and Marie closely 
pressed by the crowd, they accomplished the dis- 
tance almost in silence. The cottage had been 
rented by strange tenants who were absent at the 
time, and there was no one to respond to their 
summons but a little child left playing alone. So 
they entered and in obedience to the lad’s direc- 
tions, he was led to the fireplace, where the embers 
of the dying fire lay upon the hearth. 

“ Take away the coal,” he said, “ and I’ll tell you 
where to find the paper.” 

He knelt down and helped to blow the ashes 
from the hearth with his feeble breath, and then 
pointed eagerly to one of the stones which were 
laid in a regular course beneath the andirons. 

“ That one, captain — take it up ! ” he said, knock- 
ing the stone with his fist, “ that was my hiding 
place for all my pretty things.” 

Gaspard and the notary were quick to obey the 


SCO 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


request. Beneath the stone which had been loosely 
laid was found an old tin box, once used for a 
rough brand of tobacco, and in it were the treasures 
of the poor idiot boy. A few bright buttons, a 
knot of faded ribbons, an old knife, a few small 
silver coins, and lastly a piece ot stained and 
crumpled parchment, which he handed to Fusil. 

“ Let me have it, captain ! ” said Marie, and she 
took it from his hands. Her face was pale with 
her great anxiety, and she held her breath as she 
looked at the parchment; then her breast heaved, 
her eyes grew luminous with joy, and thrusting 
the parchment into the notary’s hands, she cried 
aloud : 

“Yes, it is the scrip from Father Michel ! See, 
Monsieur Redoule, I am an honest woman, now I ” 

“ And you are not a widow I ” said Fusil. “ Pierre 
has returned, and poor Franz has been a good 
friend to you.” 

Suddenly Lisette uttered a sharp cry and fell 
upon her knees beside the boy ; he had fallen back 
and lay with his head upon the captain’s knee. 
The woman’s quick eyes had seen a sudden change 
in the lad’s face ; the light had faded from his eyes, 
the nervous clutching of the fingers of his un- 
harmed hand told her that death was approaching 
fast. The mother’s love so long repressed, asserted 
its claim, and Lisette’s hot tears fell upon his 
breast. 

“Yes, Marie,” she exclaimed, “you have the 


THE IDIOT’S WORK COMPLETED. 


361 


proof of marriage, and happy days are in store for 
you and Pierre ; but I shall be alone now in the 
world. My son — my poor, poor son is dying fast 1 ” 

“He is dead, good woman,” said Fusil, “but he 
died with no guilty burden on his soul. Nor will 
you be left alone; Marie and PhillippeDe Bricnnea 
owe you a debt that they can never pay, and they 
will cafe for you! ” 

But Lisette heard not the captain’s words. “My 
boy, my poor boy,” she cried, as seated upon the 
ground, she caught the lifeless form in her arms, 
and bent her head over his. Her bosom heaved 
convulsively and her strong arms tightened their 
hold, but she uttered no word of lamentation. 

Pierre and Marie stood silently by her side, with 
clasped hands and tearful eyes, deeply awed by 
this voiceless manifestation of a mother’s agony. 

At last the poor woman’s breathing grew weak, 
and her arms visibly relaxed their hold. 

“Pierre, Pierre,” cried Marie, “she is dying!” 

Pierre bent down and gently lifted her sinking 
form from the breast of her dead child, and pressed 
her crucifix to her lips; she looked feebly but 
gratefully from Pierre to Marie, and then a film 
came over her eyes. She was dead. 

Pierre and Marie were alone. Amid the silenoe 
of death that brooded over them, the love that 
made them one assumed a deeper, wider significance, 
seemed to unite them with that higher power in 
whose presence they stood, and to consecrate their 


862 


PUT TO THE TEST. 


double life to its own supernal ends. They felt 
that love is more powerful than death, — that death, 
indeed, is but the shadow of its wing. 

More powerful, too, than fate or circumstance, is 
the divine potency of love. ’Tis love that holds 
above the fatalities and mischance of life, a fair 
ideal, but uses these for the moulding of character, 
and the consecration of it to noble ends. A divine 
Prospero subdues the storm and reveals the over- 
arching sky; and to each, struggling soul, who, 
like Marie, has kept faith amid the darkness and 
turmoil, he repeats the assuring words : 

“ All thy vexations 

Were but my trials of thy love, and thou 
Hast strangely stood the test.” 


THE EK'D. 


? 1 ; i 



LIST OF THE PUBLICATIONS 

AND 

FORTHCOMING WORKS 

OF 

HENRY Xi. HINTON, 

744 Broadway, [cor. Astor Place,] NEW YORK. 
i873-4. 

GIFT BOOKS. 

RIP VAN WINKLE, THE JEFFERSON 

Edition. Washington Irving’s Legend illustrated 
by Photo-Relief Printing of Jefferson as “Rip 
Van Winkle,” by Sarony, together with designs by 
Darley, Hoppin, and other Eminent Artists. 8vo., Tint, 
Cloth Extra, Black and Gold, $2. 50. 

A WINTER’S TALE. SHAKESPEARE’S 

Play. Edited by Howard Staunton and con- 
taining Twenty-Seven Illustrations by John Gilbert. 
Bound in White Morocco Paper, with an illustration by 
Henry Van DER Weyde. Square 8vo., Gilt, $1.25. 


T vo very beautiful little volumes are Shakespeare’s ‘‘Winter’s 
Tale” and Irving’s “ Rip Van Winkle,” in the “ Jefferson Edi- 
tion.” The former work is illustrated by John Gilbert and 
Henry Van der Weyde, and, we hardly need say, is an exquisite 
example of illustrative art. The “Rip Van Winkle” is ele- 
gantly printed and is embellished and enriched by four of Sarony’t 
beautiful pictures of Jefferson; of which we have already had 
occasion to speak in terms of the highest praise. These pictures 
are what are known as carbon prints, and are fine specimens of 
the furthest reach of the photographic art. — N. Y. Evening 
Post. 

THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. SHAKE- 

speare’s Play. Edited by Henry L Hinton. 
The text as arranged for the “Grand Revival” of the play 
by Edwin Booth at the .Old Winter Garden Theatre, 
and until illustrations of the principal scenes. Royal Svo. , 
Tint, Cloth Extra, Full Gilt, $i.oo. 

ENOCH ARDEN, THE EDWIN ADAMS’ 

Edition. Tennyson’s Poem, illustrated by Photo- 
Relief Printing of Edwin Adams as “ Enoch 
Arden ” by Sarony. In large type, beautifully printed. 
Square 4to., Tint, Cloth Extra, Black and Gold, $2.50. 


FICTION. 

PUT TO THE TEST. A STORY OF 

Woman’s Faith. By Cilas. Chamberlain, Jr. Cloth, 
390 Pages, $1.50. 

A literary correspondent, of whose judgment I think highly, 
writes me as follows with reference to Mr. Charles Chamberlain, 
Jr’s, new novel, “Put to the Test,” which we announced some 
time tigo as being in press. “ Thoroughly healthy in tone, and 
fresh and varied in plot, the book offers a marked contrast to 
the ordinary sensational novel. It would hardly be fair to give 
the story, but it turns on the strong attachment of Marie Las- 
cour for honest Pierre, to whom she clings in all his misfortunes, 
and for whom she bravely battles against the intrigues of the 
cSafty Duprez, whose vice is half redeemed by the sincerity of 
his love for Marie. Round these central figures are grouped 
Old Lisette, a strongly marked character, who gives timely aid 


to poor Marie, and several subordinate but firmly drawn per- 
sonages. Mr. Chamberlain writes in an easy and graceful style, 
and his novel is sure to take .” — The Arcadian. 

THE PUCK NOVELS.— THE NEW 75 

Cent Series of Bound Novels. This is a scries of 
stories now issuing, by Popular Foreign and American 
Authors. The series is limited to stories embracing a 
single continuous plot, containing the pith of what, in more 
pretentious works, is usually extended over a wide field. 
These books are handsomely printed, tastefully bound ir» 
cloth, and published at 75 cents a volume. 

No. 1. THE COMING RACE. BY BUL- 

wer Lytton. “ Together with his usual strength of style 
and power of arousing interest, * The Coming Race* 
contains a vein of philosophy peculiarly interesting to those 
who study social questions and science .” — The Ilcrald. 

No. 2. THE BELLS. A ROMANTIC 

Story from the French Novel,— ‘Le .Juif Polo- 
nais.' By MM. Erckmann-Chatrian, authors, also, of 
the play “The Bells,” which is founded upon this story. 
This is a very excellent translation of a beautiful story which 
is told very much after the manner of Dickens, and possesses 
more than ordinary dramatic interest. It is gotten up in neat 
style, being one of the Puck series, and will more than repay a 
perusal — New Orleans Herald. 

No. 3. POWDER AND GOLD. A STORY 

of the Franco-Prussian War. From the German 
of Levin Shucking. 

“Powder and Gold” is an interesting story of the Franco- 
German War, and relates the fortunes of a Prussian Sergeant, 
who, after occupying a French Chateau, accomplishes the cap- 
ture of a large sum of contraband gold, and achieves promotion 
and a lovely wife by the incident. — The Sunday Times. 

Mo. 4. A BROWN-STONE FRONT. A 
Story of New York Society. By Chandos Fulton. 
This book is so quaint and attractive in its appearance that 
one is tempted to read it without reference to its Literary merit. 


It is a pleasant story of Saratoga life, and shows that a brown- 
stone house may be the abode of happiness and peace as well as 
the humblest cottage. It is in its light and shades more like real 
life than such productions usually are. — The Philadelphia Age . 

The story is altogether a capital one in its manner and ma- 
terial, and is, above all, valuable for the tribute it pays to women 
who act from principle rather than from impulse or passion. 
It will wile away a summer’s day delightfully. — The Pough- 
keepsie News. 

“ Just the book to put into one’s satchel when going off for 
a railroad trip, or for an airing down the bay.” — The Daily 
Graphic. 

The following novels will be issued during the Fall and 
Winter. 

NOT IN THEIR SET; OR, IN DIFFER- 
ENT Circles of Society. From the German of Marie 
Lenzen. By MS. 

MY COMRADES A STORY OF THE 

Hudson. By Howard Hinton. Containing advent- 
ures among the Highlands, and giving, by way of episode, 
a melange of the History and Legendary Lore of the Hud- 
son. 

THREE TYPES OF WOMANHOOD; 
or, Fenice, Laurella and Helene Morten. From 
the German of Paul IIeyse. By Antoinette W. Hin- 
ton. 

THE CHILDREN OF THE WORLD. 

A Novel in Six Books. Fro\i the German of Paul 
Heyse. To be published in one large i2mo. volume. 


GENERAL LITERATURE. 

THE HUMOROUS CHAPBOOKS OF 

Scotland ; in three volumes, by John Frazer, late of 
Glasgow University. (The first of these volumes is 
now ready, the second and third will appear in the course 
of the Fall and Winter.) Crown Svo., Flexible Cloth, 
$1.25 per vol., complete work $3.00. 


By “Chapbooks” is meant the penny histories which, during 
the last century, formed the chief literature of the Scottish com- 
monalty, and were sold by travelling pedlers, or chapmen. 
These books afford a pleasant insight into Scottish character, 
and rescue from a fast-coming obscurity many amusing legends 
of a people then in a rude stage of civilization. 

“ A very valuable contribution to literary history * * * it 
should be a part of every book collector’s library, as an invalu- 
able guide to many old matters nowhere else so well set forth.” — 
Appleton's Journal . 

THE CLUBS OF NEW YORK. WITH 

an Account of the Origin, Progress, Present 
Condition, and Membership of the Leading Clubs. 
An essay on New York Club Life, with pen portraits of 
the most prominent club men. By F. G. Fairfield. 
Large i2mo., Cloth Extra, Gilt Top, $2.25. 

This book cannot fail to be interesting to those who are 
already acquainted with this great feature of Metropolitan life ; 
and to those who would gain a knowledge of the personal pecu- 
liarities and habits of the celebrities of the Metropolis, it will be 
an invaluable manual. It combines the careful research, collec- 
tion of materials, and perspicuous arrangement of a history, with 
quaint remarks, and descriptions of character, which give spice 
and flavor to every page of the narrative. It is published in die 
most elegant style of printing and binding. 

“ Mr. Fairfield has evidently performed his task with a keen 
interest in the subject, and great zest of description .” — The 
Tribune. 

SPIRITUALISM ANSWERED BY 
Science. Containing Proofs of a Psychic Force, 
by Edward W. Cox, S.L., F.R.G.S., i2mo., Flexible 
cloth, 5octs. 

Contents: The Phenomena — Is it Delusion or Fraud? Is it 
Unconscious Muscular action? Are the spectators Biologized? 
What is the Psychic Force? The Theory of Spiritualism. 
The Scientific Theory of Psychic Force. How to investigate. 

“ The book is written in a calm spirit by one who reports 
the evidence of many experiments, and reasons upon them like 
a man determined to sift evidence, and believe accordingly. 
The subject needs further investigation. If there be a force 
antagonistic to gravitation, or exempt from its influence, or at 
least operating to counteract gravitation on the bodies in which 


it is diffused, science should be eager to discover all that can 
be known about it. We recommend Mr. Cox’s most interest- 
ing book to the inquiring and curious. The psychologist and 
physiologist should be equally alive to the statements it contain. 
— The Westminster Review. 

SOCIAL SCIENCE. A REVIEW, His- 
torical and Critical, of the Progress of Thought 
in Social Philosophy. By Robert S. Hamilton. 
i2mo., Clofh, 340 pages, $2.00. 

This truly great work is the latest and most valuable contri- 
bution to sociology, from any American source at least. Its 
distinguishing characteristics are extreme accuracy of statement, 
profundity of research, and vast voluminousness of thought. 
While it cannot fail to arrest the attention of advanced thinkers 
it will at the same time be invaluable to the scholar, embodying 
as it does the condensed essence of all anterior thought on the 
same subject. Few works have combined, so fully, the ele- 
ments necessary to make a book of the times. 

BOOTH MEMORIALS. PASSAGES, In- 
cidents, and Anecdotes in the Life of Junius 
Brutus Booth, [the elder] by iiis daughter. 
Illustrated with a Steel Engraving of Booth as Richard 

III. i2mo., Cloth, $1 ; paper, 5octs. 

STANDARD DRAMA, ADAPTED FOR 
School Reading. By Henry L. Hinton. Printed in 
Large Type with Foot Notes and a Glossary. i2mo., 
Flexible Cloth, socts. each. 

I. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE. 

II. ROMEO AND JULIET, 
lit. THE LADY OF LYONS. 

IV. OTHELLO. 

V. MACBETH. 

VI. RICHARD III. 

MARIAMNE. A TRAGEDY OF JEWISH 

History. By Laughton Osborn. i2mo., Cloth, 75cts. 
This is the Third of the Tragedies of Jewish and Biblical 
History, and the Second in Continuation of Vol IV. of Mr. 
Osborn’s Dramatic Works. (A list of the dramatic works of 
this author with prices annexed may be had on application. ) 


THE ACTING PLAYS OF EDWIN 
Booth (Vol. I.) Edited by Henry L. Hinton. Large, 
i2mo., Cloth, $1.75. Containing Richard III., Macbeth, 
Merchant of Venice, Romeo and Juliet, and Oth- 
ello, adapted to the Stage from the text of the Cambridge 
Editors. To which are added The Fool’s Revenge, 
Brutus, and The Lady of Lyons, from the Author’s 
Editions ; including Introductory Articles on the History 
of the Plays, on the Personation of the leadings roles by 
Prominent Actors, on Costume, &c., with Notes Original 
and Selected 


LIFE AND ADVENTURE. 

BUCKSKIN MOSE, OR LIFE FROM 
the Lakes to the Pacific. Written by Himself, 
12 Full-page Illustrations. Cloth, $1.50. 

The Home Journal says : * Buckskin Mose * is a plain and 
truthful, but very interesting, account of life and adventure in 
the far West. The book appeals to the reader with a veritable 
Defoe-like charm, although the rough life of action it depicts 
has little in common with the idyllic romance of a Crusoe on a 
desert island. Much of the author’s adventure had its place 
among the mines and savages of Nevada and the country cast 
of the Rocky Mountains. His observations of the Indians and 
the effects on them of the policy pursued by the Government 
give a value to the book beyond its interest as a narrative. 

SCHOOL DAYS AT MOUNT PLEAS- 

ant. Including Sketches and Legends of the “Neutral 
Ground.” By Ralph Morley. Illustrated by Forbes, 
Bon well and Waud. Tinted Paper, 328 Pages, iamo.. 
Cloth Extra, Elaborate Designs in Black and Gold, $1.50. 

The records of the scholastic novitiate, when pleasantly 
written, are always entertaining, for they recall the most de- 
lightful period of every man’s existence, when life was but^ a 
giddy anticipation of worldly success and coveted fame. The 
author of this volume, which has been beautifully published by 
Henry L. Hinton, 744 Broadway, has narrated under the 
pseudonym of Ralph Morley, the joys and sorrows, the past- 


times and emulations of a cadet. There are* many fine passages, 
both of dialogue and description, in the book, which has the 
obvious and decided merit with-al of being a genuine outgrowth 
of the soil, a distinctive production of New York . — New York 
Evening Post. 


PAMPHLETS. 

BOOTH’S ACTING PLAYS. SHAKE- 

speare’s and other Plays Adapted for Represen - 
tation at Booth’s Theatre. 8vo., paper, 30 cents. 

I. RICHARD III. 

II. MACBETH. 

III. MERCHANT OF VENICE. 

IV. FOOL’S REVENGE. 

V. ROMEO AND JULIET. 

VI. BRUTUS. 

VII. LADY OF LYONS. 

VIII. OTHELLO. 

IX. MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 

X. RICHELIEU. 

XI. MERCHANT OF VENICE, ending with the 
4th act of Shakespeare. 

XII. RICHARD III. Col ley Cibbers’ version. 

XIII. HAMLET. 

XIV. JULIUS CAESAR. 

RIP VAN WINKLE. THE BOOTH’S 
Theatre Edition, Irving’s Story, with illustrations^ 
by Darley. 8vo., Tinted Paper, 50 cts. 

ENOCH ARDEN. THE BOOTH’STHEA- 
tre Edition. Tennyson’s Poems, Beautifully Printed, 
Royal 8vo., Tinted Paper, 5octs. 

BOOTH’S THEATRE PORTRAIT GAL- 

LERY. A concise description of the Stage of Booth’s Thea- 
tre. Illustrated by nine Large Wood Cuts, also a fine cut 
of the exterior of the building, with eight Portraits of leading 
actors. Printed on heavy tinted paper. Royal 8vo. 32 
pages, 25cts. 

SELLING OUT Y E POPE. A SATIRE. 

By M. Byer. i6mo., 32 pages, 25cts. 

“The satire is humorous rather than sarcastic, and the author 
bolds up his subjects for merriment more than for ridicule.” 


* 714 * 

















z 




a o 








v> . 

< ^ '''*' y ‘*‘~ s v .\ 

'O rO v c 0 N 0 * ^ 

= \-'^Kk-, ^ J>l 

* "W 

° / ^ \ rJFm 

. . , %. '* -To ’* / V'- TTTTo 0 -°, 

v *'*■'. -' J\'' 7 '" c 

* , s. \<> C ^ ^ Sa * . rv X A &€*§»* ' 

* * 


V 


0 o 





</> 

<&* 

*- r ^ ^ 

T 

<V 

v 

- V> 
& 

%. 


,T 

</> 



g \ •„ 

r> * ^ ^ 

V ’ O y n . * 

^\ * V I fi * *f» 0 * * -4 

► O' ?-) ,* 0 k J| 

- ^ ** .'/:: -■. - , 0 si 

A 1 - » fiaf^o ' •bn' = 

T$rr ° o5 Xt. — 

C. , '■^V o/ % *P 

,.i>° % v *' "V -J 

■?> * i®. .__ V * 

<p ,^V 


Cj^ ^ 

0 * K Jj v . <T * 



> ’ , ; °l- * ■'* hi 0 > \^ X 

<& * 


<-> 

,. -cw-** < 


* „ , ^ * A Q 

‘ * 1 ' 0 > 

<1 

o 

<i> A v % 

0 o 

•* 

^ o 

V o 



■C* B. » - 

4 *. >- 

^ ^ 7. 


\ /> 

O 0 0 Ci. -> 

" 1 " </ S 

r ■%. ,1? *% 

° *%■$ -■ ^ 

^ Z 7///«^VXX-W . 

^ VVV'V oV ^ 

v ^ * c? -W'A ,/ 



" A^ ^ = 





